Children’s Story

Children’s Story — A Stormy Night

by

A few years ago, my family went on a vacation to a national park in North Dakota. We had an enjoyable time camping and hiking, and all too soon, it was time to go back home. Of course, we had to camp a couple of nights on the way back because it took a few days to get home from where we had been vacationing. The last night that we camped was a very adventurous one.

We had been driving all day and were looking for a nice place to camp. Lake Sakakwea seemed to be good enough, so we stopped, paid fees, and selected our site. We set up our tents and put our bedding in them. Then we got out our supper and ate. When we were finished, we sat on the bank of the enormous lake to enjoy the beautiful sunset. It was a very nice evening. My brother decided to look around a bit and do some exploring. He had been walking around on the bank’s edge for a couple of minutes, when we heard a big “ker-plunk” like a piece of the bank had fallen into the lake. My mom said in a worried voice, “Hud, are you OK?” Hud was all right, but he told us that right after he had walked on a little patch of the bank it had fallen in. His guardian angel must have held that little patch up until he passed. What do you think?

All of us went to see where the bank had caved in, and there it was, a gap where dirt had once been. We could see the water bubbling and some of the fallen bank sticking out of it. We were all glad that our tents were set up safely—a few yards from the lake’s edge. As the evening went on, more of the bank fell into the lake, but we were all cautious and stayed out of harm’s way. Soon we went to bed.

That night a huge storm came through. It was raining hard, and the wind was ferocious! My brother, sister and I were sleeping in a fairly old tent that could not withstand such wind. I was sleeping on the side of the tent that was facing the wind, and the wind was so forceful on that side of the tent that it flattened the tent against me, and the poles were digging into my skin. It was not a comfortable position, to say the least.

My parents came out to make sure that their tent stakes were securely in the ground. My mom saw how our tent was being flattened, and came to see how we were doing. She saw my predicament and offered to let me spend the rest of the night in her sturdy tent. I accepted, glad to get away from those terrible poles.

I packed up my sleeping bag and made my way out into the dark and stormy night. Of course, when I left, the wind completely flattened the spot where I had been lying and pushed the tent against my sister. She decided to go sleep in our van, as she did not fancy poles grinding into her skin either. So, she packed up her things and emerged into the cold night.

When she got out, the wind deformed the tent even more. My brother experienced having the whole tent pinning him down, with very little space to move. He definitely did not like the hard poles squeezing him either, so he joined my sister and me for a more peaceful night in our van. My parents went back to their trusty tent for a noisy, but reasonably comfortable night.

Now you may think that we must have had a terribly chintzy tent. Actually, it seemed like a pretty nice one. We bought it from a good company, and when it was new, it was strong. Even in its later years, it served well through small storms. We were comfortable with it usually, and even now use it occasionally. It is good enough for most situations. The problem with that tent is that it failed the big test.

Thinking about that made me think about myself. “Do I have a faith, which, like that tent, is only strong enough for small storms? Am I building up my faith so that it will be able to bring me through the Christian’s big storm, because it is secured in our only true Foundation, Jesus Christ? Will I stand up strong and firm in all my trials, like my parent’s tend did?” These thoughts passed through my mind. I am now praying and striving for a faith that is strong enough to pass my big test.

 

Children’s Story – When God Controlled a Railway Train

by

Many years ago an engineer brought his train to a stop at a little village in Massachusetts where the passengers had only five minutes to get off the train and stretch their legs a bit before the train pulled out again.

“The conductor tells me that the train to Bedford leaves the junction ahead fifteen minutes before we get there,” said a sad-looking lady on the platform to the engineer. “That is the last train tonight to Bedford, and I’m trying to get home with a very sick child. I have no money for a hotel. I simply must reach that train on time and get home tonight.”

“It can’t be done,” replied the engineer.

“Would it be possible for you to hurry a little?” asked the anxious, tearful mother.

“No, Ma’am. I have a schedule, and the rules say I must follow it exactly.”

The woman turned away sorrowfully. But a moment later, she was back. “Are you a Christian?” she asked the engineer.

He looked puzzled. “Yes, I am,” he answered. “Why do you ask?”

“Will you pray with me that the Lord may in some way delay that train at the junction?”

“Well … Yes, I’ll pray with you, but I don’t have much faith that the train will be delayed long enough for you to make your connection.”

Just then the conductor called out, “All aboard!”

The poor woman hurried to get back into the train and take care of her sick child. The engineer quickly climbed to his spot in the engine, and soon the train was puffing its way down the track, climbing the grade. In her seat on the train, the woman prayed for God to help her to reach the Bedford train in time. Up in his seat at the throttle, the engineer also prayed. “Lord,” he said, “delay that Bedford train only ten minutes, and I’ll make up the extra five minutes!”

“Somehow,” the engineer later recalled, “everything seemed to go according to some plan. After I prayed, I couldn’t help increasing my speed just a little! We hardly paused at the first stop. People got on and off more quickly than I’ve ever seen before. In half a minute, the conductor was waving his lantern, and we were off once more. I began to have more faith that we would reach the junction before that other train left.

“Once over the summit of the mountain, it was easy to give the engine a little more steam, and then a little more. I prayed, and the train seemed to shoot down the rails like an arrow. I sensed something was pushing us forward, and I couldn’t hold her back! We came rushing into the junction six minutes ahead of schedule. And there stood the Bedford train! Its conductor was still standing on the platform, his lantern resting at his side.”

Now, these trains never connected with each other. They weren’t intended to; the schedule didn’t allow for it. No message had been sent ahead to hold the Bedford train. There was no reason it should not have left the station several minutes earlier. Yet, there it stood—waiting.

The conductor of the Bedford train approached the engineer of the train that had just pulled into the junction. “Well,” he inquired, “will you tell me what we’re waiting for? Somehow I felt that I needed to wait until you arrived at the station tonight. But I don’t know why.”

“I can tell you,” replied the engineer. “I have a woman on board my train who has a sick child and who must get home tonight. She has been praying—and I have been praying—that somehow your train would still be here when we arrived. And here you are!”

Storytime, Character-building Stories for Children, Pacific Press Publishing Association, 6, 7.

Children’s Story — Muriel ’s Bright Idea

by

My friend Muriel is the youngest daughter in a large family. They are in moderate circumstances, and the original breadwinner has been long gone; so the young people have to be wage earners.

“Other people do not know now lovely vacations are,” was the way Esther expressed it as she sat on the side porch, hands folded lightly in her lap, and an air of delicious idleness about her entire person. It was her week of absolute leisure, which she had earned by a season of hard work. She is a public-school teacher and works fourteen hours a day.

Alice is a music teacher, and goes from house to house in town and from school to school, with her music roll in hand. Ben, a young brother, is studying medicine in a doctor’s office, and also in town, and serving the doctor between times to pay for his opportunities. There are two others, an older brother just started in business for himself, and a sister in nurses’ training.

So they scattered each morning to their duties in the city ten miles away, and gathered at night, like chickens, to the home nest, which was mothered by the dearest little woman. She prepared favorite dishes for the wage earners as they gathered at night around the home table. It is a very happy family, but I set out to tell you about Muriel’s apron, but it seemed necessary to describe the family in order to secure full appreciation of the apron.

Muriel is still a high-school girl, hoping to graduate next year, though at times a little anxious lest she may not pass. She plans to go to college as soon as possible. But about her apron. I saw it first one morning when I crossed the street to my neighbor’s side door, and met Muriel in the doorway, as pretty a picture as a fair-haired, bright-eyed girl of seventeen can make. She was in what she called her uniform, a short dress (less than floor length) made of dark print, cut lower(but modest) in the neck than a street dress. It had elbow sleeves, with white braid stitched on their bands and around the square neck setting off the little costume charmingly.

Her apron was a strong dark green denim, wide enough to cover her dress completely; it had a bib waist held in place by shoulder straps; and the garment fastened behind with a single button. But its distinctive feature was a row of pockets—or rather several rows of them—extending across the front breadth; they were of varying sizes, and all bulged out as if well filled.

“What in the world?” I began, and stared at the pockets. Muriel’s merry laugh rang out.

“Haven’t you seen my pockets before?” she asked. “They astonish you, of course; everybody laughs at them; but I am proud of them; they are my own invention. You see, we are such a busy family, and so tired when we get home at night, that we have a bad habit of dropping things just where we are, and leaving them. By the last of the week this big living room is a sight to behold. It used to take half my morning to pick up the thousand and one things that did not belong here, and carry them to their places. You do not know now many journeys I had to make, because I was always overlooking something. So I invented this apron with a pocket in it for every member of the family, and it works like a charm.

“Look at this big one with a B on it; that is for Ben, and it is always full. Ben is a great boy to leave his pencils, and his handkerchiefs, and everything else about. Last night he even discarded this necktie because it felt choky.

“This pocket is Esther’s. She leaves her letters and her discarded handkerchiefs, as well as her gloves. And Kate sheds hair ribbons and hatpins wherever she goes. Just think how lovely it is to have a pocket for each, and drop things in as fast as I find them. When I am all through dusting, I have simply to travel once around the house and unpack my load. I cannot tell you how much time and trouble and temper my invention has saved me.” “It is a bright idea,” I said, “and I mean to pass it on. There are other living rooms and busy girls. Whose is that largest pocket, marked M?”

“Why, I made it for mother; but mothers do not leave things lying around. It is funny, is it not, when they have so many cares? It seems to be natural for mothers to think about other people. So I made the M stand for ‘miscellaneous,’ and I put into that pocket articles which belong to all of us. I needed pockets last winter, when we all had special cares and were so dreadfully busy. It is such a simple idea you would have supposed that any person would have thought of it. I just had to do it this spring, because there simply was not time to run up and down stairs so much.

“It is true, ‘Necessity is the mother of invention,’” I said. “And, besides, you have given me a new idea. I am going home to work it out. When it is finished, I will show it to you.” Then I went home, and made rows and rows of strong pockets to sew on a folding screen I was making for my work room.

Just Do Your Best

 

Just do your best. It matters not how small,

How little heard of;

Just do your best—that’s all.

Just do your best. God knows it all,

And in His great plan you count as one;

Just do your best until the work is done.

Just do your best. Reward will come

To those who stand the test;

God does not forget. Press on,

Nor doubt, nor fear. Just do your best.

 

by Ernest Lloyd

Taken from Stories Worth Rereading, Review and Herald Publishing Assn., Washington D.C., 1919.

 

Children’s Story — The Head Nurse’s Story

by

When little Jem was first brought to the hospital, it was in a carriage with liveried servants.

His father was a mill-owner in Pennsylvania, and Jem was an only child. He had the largest room in the private ward.

His parent’s brought the boy fruit, flowers, and books. “Please take them to that cripple in the next room, and to children in the free wards, with my love—little Jem Bruce’s love,” he would say, raising himself in bed, with flushed cheeks and shining eyes.

In two months he recovered and went away, but two years afterward Mrs. Bruce brought him back. She was dressed in black, and asked for a cheap room. Mr. Bruce, I heard, was dead, and had left his widow little money.

Jem’s knee was worse than ever, but what a cheery, happy fellow he was! He soon learned the story of all the patients in the neighboring rooms, as he had done before. And when his mother brought him a bunch of pinks or a basket of apples, he would eagerly divide them.

“Maybe they will make some one feel happier just for a minute,” he would say, with his rare smile.

His right leg was taken off at the knee. Then I lost sight of Jem for three or four years. Last winter he applied for admission to the free ward. His mother was dead. The disease had appeared in the other leg some months before. Jem had been supporting himself by typewriting, but was now no longer able to work.

He met me as if I had been his old, dear friend, —as indeed, I was, —and then hobbled round the wards to see if he knew any of the patients, stopping to laugh and joke and say some kind word at each bed.

The doctors amputated the other leg that day. It was the only chance for his life, but in a week they knew that it had failed.

“Make the boy comfortable,” the surgeon said to me; “it is all that can be done for him now.”

Jem knew the truth from the first. But he never lost courage. This was his bed (pointing to the middle one of a long row of white cots in the great ward). He learned to know all the men, and took keen interest in each case.

When Johnny Royle died, Jem took out the few dollars remaining in his pocket, and gave them to me. “They’re for his little children,” he whispered. “They have nothing.” And when old Peter was discharged, cured, he came to Jem’s bed to say good-bye as if he had been his brother. Jem wrung his hand, and said: “Take my overcoat, Peter; yours is gone, and—I’ll never need mine again.” He waved his hand, and cheered feebly as Peter went away.

He had nothing left to give now—I think that cut him sharply, but one day he began to sing. He had a remarkable voice, clear and tender; it would force the tears to your eyes. Every head in the ward was turned to listen. That delighted Jem. “I can sing for them occasionally,” he said, “if the doctors will allow it.”

So, whenever it was possible, Jem’s sweet voice was heard, sometimes in a humorous song, sometimes in a hymn. I used to think he was at heaven’s gate when he sang those hymns. But one morning his voice was gone, and before night everyone in the ward knew he was dying. The patients were silent, many of them crying, for they all loved the boy. He died at sundown, sitting up in bed, leaning against my shoulder. He glanced around the ward, and they nodded, and smiled.

“Give them,” he whispered, then stopped, remembering, poor child, that he had nothing to give. Then he said, suddenly, aloud, his eyes brightening, “Give them my love—Jem Bruce’s love.”

Taken from The Youth’s Instructor, January 29, 1903.

 

Children’s Story — Miraculous Deliverance of a Ship’s Crew

by

On August 9, 1815, the “Brig Commerce” was wrecked on the coast of Africa. Captain Riley tells how he and his crew were saved after the shipwreck.

“We managed to get the small boat’s sails, consisting of a gib and mainsail, into the small boat, with a spar that would do for a mast, and the ‘Brig’s’ foremost staysail. We had a keg of water, a few pieces of food, a live pig that weighed abut twenty pounds, about four pounds of figs that had been soaking in the salt water ever since the wreck. (We fished the figs out of the cabin.) This was the total of our provisions.

“The pig had escaped to the shore at the time of the shipwreck. But when the waves pulled us back from the shore, the pig swam back to us and we took it into the small boat. When everything was ready, I tried to encourage the crew as well as I could. I told them that it was better for us to be swallowed up by the sea than to be massacred by the ferocious savages.

“I reminded the crew that God was able to save us, even when the last ray of hope was vanishing and we should never despair, but do our best in our attempt to get to safety, and still hope for His merciful protection. As we looked at the dangers that surrounded us—wave after wave breaking with a dreadful crash constantly just beyond us, our hearts failed us. There seemed to be no possibility of getting safely beyond the breakers unless God intervened.

“I had doubted that God would particularly intervene in any case, yet if there is a general providence, there must be a particular providence! Everyone trembled with fear and dread. We thought that as soon as we went past the wrecked ship, we would be drowned.

“Then I said, ‘Let us pull off our hats, my companions and shipmates in distress.’ Quickly every man pulled his hat off. I lifted my eyes and soul toward heaven and prayed, ‘Great Creator and Preserver of the universe, Who now seest our distresses, we pray Thee to spare our lives and permit us to pass through this overwhelming surf to the open sea. But if we are doomed to perish, Thy will be done. We commit our souls to Thee, our God, Who gave them, and O, universal Father, protect and preserve our widows and children.’

“The winds, as if by divine command, at this very moment ceased to blow. We hauled the boat out. The dreadful surges that were nearly bursting upon us suddenly quit, making a path for our boat, through which we rowed out as smoothly as if we had been on a river in a calm. But on each side of us and just a few yards away, the surf continued to break twenty feet high with unabated fury!

“We had to row nearly a mile in this manner. All of us were fully convinced that we were saved by God’s special intervention just when we needed His help. All joined in returning thanks to God for His mercy. As soon as we reached the open sea and had gone some distance from the wreck, we saw the surf rolling behind us with the same force as it had on each side of the boat!” Riley’s Narrative, 33, 34.

The following interesting remarks are from the author’s preface:

“With respect to the extraordinary circumstance told in the story of the sudden subsiding of the surf when we were about committing ourselves to the open sea in our shattered boat, I know that there will be much comment and probably some ridicule.

“I was advised to not tell that part of the story in case some unbelievers would not believe the rest of my ‘narrative.’ This probably would have been good advice for me as a mere author. Previously, I might have been suspicious that such a story was not true. But I feel that I cannot withhold an incident that so clearly seemed to my companions and me at the time as the immediate and merciful act of God just when death was pressing close upon us.

“The waters of the sea had well nigh covered us; the proud waves had well nigh gone over our soul. Then cried we unto Thee, O Lord, and thou didst deliver us out of our distresses; the windy storm ceased and turned into a calm.”

From Miraculous Powers, by M. E. Cornell. Modernized by Ken and Lois McGaughey.

 

Children’s Story – Send Me a Friend

by

One morning, in a city of Switzerland, a rich man sat in his beautiful home.He was lonely and discouraged. There was no earthly friend to whom he cared to tell his troubles.  He knelt down alone and prayed that God would send him a friend.

That same morning in the same city there was a young lad who had learned about the soon coming of Jesus. His heart was filled with joy as he thought of soon seeing his Saviour. He longed to tell others this truth, that they too might be happy.

He had decided to canvass [share with others door to door] a book that told about the second coming of Christ. Before he left his room that morning, he prayed that God would guide him to those who needed help. He prayed that God would send an angel before him to get people ready to buy the book.

Up one city street and down another this lad walked, showing the people his book, telling them about Jesus, and here and there taking orders. So the morning passed until it was nearly noon. On the street where he was working there were still a few houses at which he had not called. He wanted to finish his work on that street before he stopped for lunch.

The next house was large and beautiful. He always dreaded to call at such rich homes, for often the people did not want to let him in. Still he must not pass any by. He stepped to the door. He wiped his feet on the big rug, and then wiped them again. He rang the doorbell. Then he waited.

Soon a servant opened the door, and the lad gave him his card. The servant carried the card to his master. In a few moments he returned.

“The master is at lunch,” he said. “He is sure you have nothing that will interest him, and he does not wish to be disturbed.”

“Thank you,” said the lad as he walked away.

A few moments later he heard someone hurrying after him. He looked around, and there was the servant whom he had just left.

“The master wishes you to return at once, if you will be so kind,” he said.

The lad hurried back to the rich home where he met a fine, rather elderly Swiss gentleman. The gentleman took the lad into the dining room, gave him a chair at the table, and told the servant to lay another plate. Soon they were left alone.

“My boy,” said the gentleman, “this morning I prayed God to send me a friend. I was lonely and discouraged, and I knew of no one to whom I cared to turn. Just now when I sent you away, a voice said to me distinctly, ‘There I sent you a friend, and you have sent him away!’ So I called you back. Now why did God send you to me? What have you brought me?”

The lad’s heart went out in love to this man. The man had all that money could buy, but he did not know the hope of Jesus’ soon coming. The lad looked at the man with eyes full of the hope and joy that he himself had found in obeying the commandments of God.

“I have brought you a book which contains a message of hope and courage and faith in the Friend of friends, who can give you all that you wish,” the lad answered.

The gentleman was deeply interested. Hope began to spring up in his heart. He believed God had sent this lad in answer to his prayer. He invited the lad to come to his home every week and study the Bible with him. It is in just this way that God is seeking out the earnest, praying ones and getting them ready for Jesus’ soon coming.

Cockleshells, True Education Series, Pacific Press Publishing Association, © 1976, 5–8.

Children’s Story — Boardman’s Remarkable Deliverance

by

I preached one evening at Mould, in Flintshire (England) and the next morning set out for Parkgate on horseback. After riding some miles, I asked a man if I was on the right road. He answered, “Yes, but you will have some sands to go over, and unless you ride fast, you will be caught by the tide.”

It then began to snow so hard that I could scarcely see a step of my way. I got to the sands and rode over them as fast as I could. But the tide came in and surrounded me on every side, so that I could neither go forward nor turn back and to climb the steep rocks on the side was impossible. I prayed and surrendered my life to God thinking that I could not escape death.

In a little while I saw two men running down the hill on the other side of the water. Somehow they got a boat and came to my rescue just as the sea reached my knees as I sat on my horse. They took me into the boat and my horse swam by our side until we reached the land.

While we were in the boat, one of the men said, “Surely, sir, God is with you.” I answered, “I trust He is.” The man replied, “I know He is,” and then related the following incident.

“Last night I dreamed that I must go to the top of such a hill. When I awoke, the dream made such an impression on my mind that I could not rest. I therefore went and called on this man to come with me. When we came to the place, we saw nothing unusual. However, I begged him to go with me to another hill at a small distance, and there we saw you in your distress.”

When we got ashore, I went with my two friends to a public house close to where we landed. As we were telling of the wonderful providence of God, the landlady said, “A month ago we saw a gentleman in your situation, but before we could get to him he jumped into the sea. We thought that he hoped his horse would swim to the shore and thus save him, but they both sank and drowned together.”

I gave the two men who rescued me all the money I had, which I think was about eighteen pence. I stayed at the hotel all night. The next morning I was embarrassed because I had no money to pay my bill. I begged the hotelkeeper to keep a pair of silver spurs until I could redeem them.

But he said, “The Lord bless you, sir, I would not take a farthing (less than a penny) from you for the world.” After some serious conversation with the friendly people, I bade them farewell and again started on my journey, rejoicing in the Lord, and praising Him for His great salvation!

By Pastor Richard Boardman

From Miraculous Powers by M. E. Cornell.

 

Children’s Story — Starvation Escaped by Prayer

by

Many years ago a devoted English pastor, while assigned to work in a distant place, became reduced to poverty. His money was all gone, and there was not a particle of food for his family. In great distress he cried mightily unto the Lord at the hour of morning prayer.

When he arose, his little children begged for bread, and as there was none to give them, they all burst into tears. But a sleepless eye had watched all that was happening, and even while the pastor was still praying, God sent a messenger to relieve his distress.

The doorbell rang, and a man handed the astonished wife a small parcel, saying he was directed by a gentleman to leave it there, and that some provisions would arrive shortly. Very soon a countryman drove up with a load of groceries of almost every description. The parcel was found to contain forty gold pieces. Such an abundance had never been known in the house of the poor minister before. It was with feelings of awe as well as boundless gratitude that this marvelous relief was regarded, so plainly was the hand of God to be seen in it. These timely gifts were continued at intervals until the day of his death. Yet it was a long time before he learned where they came from.

At last, it was found to be a benevolent Christian merchant, who had often seen the pastor walking the streets with a solemn, dejected expression. He had been led to inquire privately into the pastor’s circumstances. As a result, he had sent them the gold by his clerk, and the provisions by his country servant, saying, “God forbid that any of Christ’s ambassadors should be strangers and we not visit them; or in distress, and we not assist them.”

The same God, who provided manna for the children of Israel for forty years in the wilderness wanderings, still cares for His children. “O magnify the LORD with me, and let us exalt His name together. I sought the LORD, and He heard me, and delivered me from all my fears . . . This poor man cried, and the LORD heard him, and saved him out of all his troubles . . . O fear the LORD, ye His saints: for there is no want to them that fear Him. The young lions do lack, and suffer hunger: but they that seek the LORD shall not want any good thing . . .The eyes of the LORD are upon the righteous, and His ears are open unto their cry . . . The righteous cry, and the LORD heareth, and delivereth them out of all their troubles . . . The LORD redeemeth the soul of His servants: and none of them that trust in Him shall be desolate.” Psalm 34:3, 4, 6, 9, 10, 15, 17, 22.

This true story is from the book, Miraculous Powers, by M. E. Cornell. Modernized by Ken and Lois Mc Gaughey

Children’s Story — Miraculous Deliverance of Doctor Adam Clarke

by

“A missionary who had been sent to a strange land to proclaim the gospel of the kingdom of God, had passed through many hardships. He was often in danger of losing his life through the persecutions excited against him. One day, taking his life in his hands, he went to a dangerous place where he had often preached Christ crucified. About fifty believers came to hear the missionary preach.

“He began his sermon, and after he had preached about thirty minutes, a blood thirsty mob surrounded the house, all armed with different instruments of death, and shouting the most murderous purposes. Some that were inside shut the door, and the missionary and the group of believers knelt in fervent prayer.

“The mob attacked the house, and began to throw stones against the walls, windows, and roof. In a little while almost every tile on the roof was destroyed, and the roof nearly uncovered. Before they left the premises, scarcely one square inch of glass was left in the five windows in the house. While this was going on, one of the mob came to the window opposite where the preacher stood. He had a pistol. (The missionary was encouraging the small congregation to be steady, to resign themselves to God, and trust in Him.) The man with the pistol pointed it at him, and pulled the trigger. But it only flashed!

“As the house was a wooden building, the mob took crowbars and shovels to destroy the foundation and knock the house down. The preacher then told his little group: ‘These wicked people seek not you, but me. If I stay in the house, they will soon tear it down, and we shall all be buried in the ruins. I will, in the name of God, go out to them, and you will be safe.’

“He then went towards the door. The distressed people surrounded him and begged him not to venture out, as he would be instantly massacred. However, He went calmly forward, opened the door, and instantly a whole volley of stones and dirt was thrown right in his face. But he was not hurt.

“The people were crowded in front of the door, and filled the road for a long way, so that there was no room to get through. As soon as the preacher made his appearance, the savages became instantly as silent and as still as night. He walked forward, and they divided, to the right and to the left, leaving a path about four feet wide for the missionary and a young man who followed him. They passed on through the whole crowd. No one lifted a hand, or spoke a word, until he and his companion had walked through the whole mob.

The narrator who was present on the occasion goes on to say: “This was one of the most dramatic spectacles I ever witnessed; an infuriated mob without any visible cause (for the preacher spoke not one word), became in a moment as calm as lambs! They seemed struck with amazement bordering on stupefaction. They stared and stood speechless; and after they had fallen back to the right and left to leave him a free passage, they were as motionless as statues!

“They assembled with the full purpose to destroy the man who came to show them the way of salvation; but he passing through the midst of them, went his way. Was not the God of missionaries in this work?”

In the book, the Life of Adam Clarke, the “missionary” referred to above, is identified as Clarke himself.*

“During the whole time of his (Clarke’s) passing through the mob, there was a death-like silence, nor was there any motion, but that which was necessary to give him a free passage! Either their eyes were holden that they could not know him; or they were so over-awed by the power of God that they could not lift a hand, or utter a word against him. The believers, finding all was quiet, came out a little after, and passed through the mob, not one of them being either hurt or molested! In a few minutes the mob seemed to awake as from a dream, and finding that their prey had been plucked out of their teeth, they knew not how, attacked the house afresh, broke every square of glass in the windows, and scarcely left a whole tile upon the roof. Clarke afterwards learned that the design of the mob was to put him in the sluice of an overshot water-wheel, by which he would have been crushed to pieces.”

Yes, the God of the missionaries is still in control!

Doctor Adam Clarke (1762-1832) lived in Londonderry, Ireland. He became a Methodist preacher and worked in Ireland, Scotland, Channel Islands and Shetland Islands.

This true story was taken from the book, Miraculous Powers, by M. E. Cornell. Modernized by Ken and Lois McGaughey.

 

Children’s Story — Julia Make Someone Happy

by

Several years ago there was a third grade class of about thirty students that was not very happy with their teacher. It seemed as if their teacher almost never smiled, and they thought she was very grumpy. They talked among themselves and complained. What could they do besides complain?

One girl, whom we will call Julia, got to thinking about how the teacher did not smile very much. What could she do to help make her teacher smile? Should she give her an apple or how about some flowers? “Maybe,” she thought, “if the class surprises the teacher with a party she will smile!” Julia was excited at the thought of it. Surprising people was something Julia loved to do. She started dreaming and planning. She called one of her friends, Karlin, and they talked it all through.

Julia soon talked to the school secretary and told her about the surprise party she wanted to have for her teacher. Julia would need to talk to the whole class about the project while the teacher was not in the room. The secretary was very helpful. She called the teacher out so Julia could talk to the class.

After the teacher left the room, Julia got up and talked to the class about the surprise party. The school secretary paged Julia and told her the teacher was coming back to the classroom, but Julia continued talking to the students. The teacher walked back into the room while Julia was still talking.

How surprised the teacher was to see Julia up out of her seat talking to the class. How surprised Julia was that the teacher returned so quickly. Julia did not think that the teacher heard about the party, but there was a rule that no students were to get out of their seats while the teacher was out of the classroom. So, Julia had her name written on the chalkboard. That meant that she could not play during all of the recess time, but since she was doing something nice for the teacher she did not really mind too much.

Before recess, the teacher called Julia over and asked her why she had been up in front of the class. Julia smiled and said she could not tell. Evidently the teacher thought that Julia had a good reason, because she let Julia play during recess.

Julia and her friend, Karlin, called all the students and asked them to bring some kind of food for the party. After all of the planning, the day of the party finally came. Some mothers of the students came to help warm the food and organize the meal. The food arrived at the classroom on a big metal cart.

Do you think that the teacher smiled? Yes, she did. The surprise party for the teacher worked! It helped to make her happy. Do you know who else smiled? Julia smiled, maybe even more than the teacher, because she had helped to make the teacher happy.

Next time you see someone that does not seem to be very happy and does not smile often, will you be able to think of a way to make them smile? Pray about it. There are many ways to cheer other people, even if it is just giving them a smile of your own. The Lord will help you to make others happy. While you help make others happy, you will find happiness yourself.