Children’s Story

Children’s Story – Amazing Rescue

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If the one who experienced this almost unbelievable battlefield bewilderment was not known for his extreme truthfulness and reliability, this would be too much to believe.

The Somme River rises above St. Quentin, near the Belgian border in northern France, and flows into the English Channel. In what was once a rich farming area near the river, the astounding scene took place.

Before the war, this man was an irreligious man. He had attended some evangelistic meetings once but did not become a Christian. After entering the war he was shipped to France. As he was crossing an open field, shrapnel struck him down. His fellow soldiers left him as they deemed him dead.

“I could hear the battle,” he related, “and the humming of bullets was all about me. I saw that I was bleeding and hoped that a corpsman would find me. But night came without one person coming near by the bit of a hollow where I fell.

“The next morning I was very weak from the loss of blood and from hunger. I had a little food in my knapsack but was unable to turn over or to unbuckle my straps to get it. I realized that I was lying in my own blood. I was helpless and giving myself up to die.

“Five days later, the medical corpsmen were out in the field searching for any one who could possibly still have life in him. I saw them come closer and closer. I tried to call to them, but they were too far away to hear my weak voice.

“Closer and closer they came. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, one of them stopped, cupped his hand to his ear, and heard my plea for help. After administering some first aid, he called to a companion to get a stretcher. When the two of them started to take me off, I asked them to look around and see if they could see what had saved my life. Puzzled and thinking I was delirious, they started on with their task.

“Wait,” I cried, “at least look at the evidence of what has happened.” After seeing those ten definite objects of proof that I had miraculously been preserved from starvation, we made our way to the mobile army surgical hospital.

“In the portable hospital tent, I had time to reflect back on the astounding way in which that God I had rejected in those evangelistic meetings had not rejected me. I gave my heart to Him and vowed to go back home, look up the people who held those meetings, and allow them to help me become a real bonafide Christian.

“My testimony of God’s stunning battlefield protection was confirmed by the two medics so that no one would miss out on the power of it all through doubt or disbelief.

“You see, when I could not turn over or unbuckle my strap with my one free arm so that I could eat the meager provisions of my K-rations, the Lord interceded.

“Lying there the morning after my being wounded, I first thought I was having an hallucination, because standing near the very tip of the five fingers of my one free hand was a real, live hen!

“What’s more, the hen laid an egg right then and there!

“I broke the egg, cupping most of its contents in one half of the shell, and swallowed it. It was not much, but it was enough to keep me alive until the next day.

“What’s even more wonderful is the fact that this same hen that I saw walk slowly away after laying that first egg came back to almost the very same spot the next day to lay another egg.

“The hen came from a nearly shelled farm house, an orderly told me later. But it came five days in a row. And the corpsmen saw the ten halves of the five eggs broken by my body.

“From this day forward I will never be able to eat chicken. The chicken means life to me, and I can’t ever take one’s life again.”

W.A. Spicer and Helen Spicer Menkel, The Hand That Still Intervenes, Concerned Publications, Inc., Clermont, Florida, 1982, 33–35.

Children’s Story – Peter’s Escape

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When Herod the king began to persecute the members of the church he killed James, the brother of John, with the sword. He saw that this pleased the Jews so Peter was arrested and put in prison. Herod planned to bring him out to the people after the Passover so to prevent his escape, four bands of four soldiers (16 soldiers) were assigned to watch over him.

While Peter remained in prison, the members of the church prayed earnestly to God for his deliverance. On the very night before the day that Herod meant to bring him up for trial, Peter slept peacefully between two soldier guards. As well as being fastened to soldiers with two chains, Herod had also placed watchmen to stand on guard at the doors. Every precaution was taken to make sure Peter was secure and had no way of escape.

All of a sudden a light shone brightly in the jail cell and an angel of the Lord stood by him. Peter must have been sleeping very soundly because the angel had to strike Peter on his side to wake him, saying, “Get up quickly” (Acts 12:7). Immediately the chains fell off in his hands.

The angel said to him, “Put on your belt and your sandals.” And Peter did so. “Throw your coat around you, and follow me” (verse 8). So Peter went out with him not knowing if it was really true or he was dreaming. They went past the first lot of guards and then the second guards and as they approached the iron gate that led into the city, that opened to them by itself.

Out they went passing through one street after another and as quickly as he had come, the angel left him. Peter found himself alone, “And when Peter was come to himself, he said, Now I know of a surety, that the Lord hath sent his angel, and hath delivered me out of the hand of Herod, and from all the expectation of the people of the Jews.” Acts 12:11.

After he had thought about what he should do, he went to the house of Mary, the mother of John Mark. Many people had gathered together there for prayer and when he knocked at the door a girl named Rhoda came to answer. Upon hearing Peter’s voice, she got so excited that she forgot to open the door, but ran in and told everybody that Peter was standing outside. They said to her, “You are mad, or out of your mind.” But she insisted that it was so.

They said, “It is his angel” (verse 15). Peter kept on knocking and when they opened the door and saw him standing there they were amazed. He motioned to them with his hand to be silent and told them how the Lord had brought him out of prison. He said, “Go and tell James and the other brothers” (verse 17). Then he left the house and went to another place. Now as soon as it was morning, there was great excitement among the soldiers as to what had become of Peter. After Herod had searched for him and had failed to find him the guards were questioned and then he commanded that they should all be executed. What a cruel King he was!

How different is our loving Saviour who is a forgiving King who always knows where we are and watches over us and takes care of us. Even while he was in prison Peter trusted in Jesus. (See Acts 12.)

Children’s Story – The Unbeliever

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The foreman glanced at his pocket watch and listened intently in the chilly early-morning air. The metal rails gleamed faintly in the bluish light. The sun began to flood the tops of the mountains. Then he heard it—the wail of an approaching train. The rest of the work crew turned their attention from the writhing flames of burning railroad ties and stared down the track. In a few moments they spotted the yellow eye of the headlight atop the rumbling gray bulk of the engine.

Black smoke spewed furiously from the smokestack and drifted back along the length of the train and across the plain. The workmen leaned on picks and shovels and watched as the locomotive slowed before it reached the section of the track where the men were working. The air brakes hissed the train to a crawl. The smell of pinewood smoke filled the air. Sticking his head out of the cab window, the fireman waved to the men along the track. They returned his greeting as the olive-green Southern Pacific cars rocked past. A child pressed his face against a coach window, wide-eyed, wondering what the men were doing out on the lonely plain. The train began to gather speed, and seconds later—with a blast from the whistle—the Southern Pacific limited vanished in the distance, heading for Chicago. A lantern still burned on its observation car.

Mrs. Ellen White drowsed in her seat, one cheek laid against the plush mohair upholstery. The jolt of the slowing train had awakened her, and she watched the silent figures of the track crew slide past her window. A voice from the rear of the coach attracted her attention. She could by listening carefully make out the man’s words above the rattle and clatter of the coach wheels on the track. He seemed to be talking about religion. She turned around to see who he was. The conductor had extinguished the Pintsch gas lamps. Not too much light filtered into the coach yet. The varnished walnut wood of the car’s walls and ceiling made it seem even darker inside. But she located the person she had heard. He was talking to another man, a man who looked as though he wished he were by himself in the dining car, eating breakfast. Instead he feebly argued with a stranger who seemed to enjoy attacking religion.

When the unbeliever saw that his seatmate no longer wanted to talk, he looked for another victim. Not all of the seats were filled, and he easily found a seat beside someone willing to talk to him. For a couple of hours he went from one person to another in the coach, criticizing and condemning Christianity. Some of the passengers agreed with his statements, laughing at his clever arguments and manner of gesturing. Others tried to defend Christianity, but soon gave up when he defeated their every attempt.

The unbeliever knew that everybody in the car was listening to him, and he enjoyed the attention. Some of the more devout Christians in the coach wished that someone would silence his ridiculing and boasts, but they could only sit helplessly in their seats or go into another chair car. With pride and triumph on his face, he walked up and down the aisle and swayed back and forth as the engineer tried to make up for lost time and regain his fifty-mile-an-hour average speed.

Spotting Mrs. White with a Bible in her hand, the man sat down in the empty seat beside her and began a tirade against Christianity. Religion, he said, reminded him of someone juggling balls. It was all a form of trickery with nothing real behind it. He compared it to sorcery and superstitious magic. On and on he ranted and raved. Mrs. White said nothing.

Still talking loudly, the man knew he had the complete attention of the passengers. His voice boomed down the length of the coach. Many wondered what Mrs. White would say to the atheist, but she remained silent. She made no attempt to argue with him. Finally the man stopped from sheer exhaustion. Turning to face him, Mrs. White quoted, “This is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent.” John 17:3.

Briefly she told the man about her own conversion and life. “You call religion sorcery,” she said, her voice breaking with emotion. “But we have ‘a more sure word of prophecy’, a promise ‘whereunto ye do well that ye take heed’ (11 Peter 1:19).” She raised her voice so that everybody could hear.

The unbelieving man objected vigorously to her reply. Trying to regain what he thought had been his advantage, he asked if she had ever read books by certain authors. Some of the books tried to find mistakes in the Bible and prove it was nothing but a collection of myths. Others were about ancient philosophy. If she answered that she hadn’t read them, he hoped to make her look ignorant in front of the other passengers.

Ignoring his attempt to make her look foolish, she answered simply, “No, I have not.”

“There. There, you don’t know,” he sneered. “Since you haven’t read even these books, you don’t know the first thing about the subject.”

“I don’t want to know,” she declared firmly. “I have no time to read such trash.” All the wisdom of the secular philosophers, she explained, came as a gift from God. Instead of using it in God’s service, they had perverted their intelligence and twisted it to satisfy human pride and ideas. Anything worthwhile such men wrote or said came as inspiration from God. All true knowledge came from Christ, and the world’s greatest men only reflected its Source as the moon reflects the light of the sun. Carefully Mrs. White explained that man could find truth only with Christ’s help. She talked more to the other passengers than to the man in the seat beside her. Everybody listened, clearly hearing her above the rhythmic click of the wheels on the rails.

Angry at the way Mrs. White had gotten control of the conversation, the man muttered and mumbled under his breath. He turned in his seat and sat in sullen disgust. The other people in the coach, seeing how tiny, elderly Mrs. White had silenced his boasts, burst into laughter. After taking the laughter for a few minutes, the unbeliever hurried down the aisle and crossed the swaying open vestibule to another coach.

Mrs. White had not used any complicated arguments with the scoffing man. To have done so would have given him a chance to twist the discussion to his own advantage. Instead she exposed the man’s ignorance by revealing to the other people in the coach that he knew nothing about God. He could not hide that fact by quoting statements from books he had read. The Spirit of God took Mrs. White’s simple defense and stabbed it into the agnostic’s heart, humiliating his pride. She showed that she knew true wisdom.

Angel Over Her Tent and Other Stories, D. A. Delafield and Gerald Wheeler, Review and Herald Publishing Association, Hagerstown, Maryland, 2000, 92, 95.

Children Story – Love Your Enemies

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“ Love your enemies, do good to them which hate you.” Luke 6:27.

The slave, known as Elijah, had been born a free man in Africa. He was a grown man when slave traders, led by a traitor, a small African man, attacked his village and snatched up all able-bodied young men and dragged them off in chains to the slave ships. He soon forgot the faces of the white traders, but resentment burned within him against the African who had grown rich from the bodies of his own people.

The fact that while in America he could never gain revenge, it grew into a bitter hatred. He took his wrath out on his master, a small man, who even though white, reminded him of his enemy. He slouched around, snarled, threatened and did no more work than he absolutely had to. He opposed his master in every way until, because of the seething rebellion on the plantation, the man was afraid to venture out alone at night.

Then the bitter man came under the influence of Christian slaves, and he met and fell in love with our lovely Jesus. A change came over him, and he helped the weaker slaves. He took care of his master’s interests, until it came to be that, like Joseph of old, his master trusted him with most of the running of the plantation.

The day came when the master went into town to purchase some more slaves, and he gave Elijah full authority to pick who he wanted for the work. He had chosen several when he came to an old man, thin and bent. He looked at him for a few moments and indicated him to join the group he was buying.

“Not him,” his master snapped. “But you said I could have who I want and I want this slave!” Elijah answered.

The dealer spoke quickly, “Since you have bought all these, I’ll throw the old man in free.” The deal was settled.

Elijah took the old man and gave him a place in his own hut and fed him with his food share. After his plantation work was done, he sat up to make clothes for the old slave. He gave him only easy work to do. But the man was old, and one day the master noticed Elijah hurrying in from the fields to his hut every so often, then returning and working as hard as he could to make up for the lost time. Finally the master followed him to the hut to see what was going on.

There he found Elijah sponging the face of the old man with a cool cloth as he lay moaning on a bunk, deathly ill. Anger filled the master and he snapped, “This man is no slave, he’s useless! I told you not to get him!”

“Yes, Massa,” Elijah replied, “But he is a man, a sick man, and he needs my help. I’ll be back to the fields as soon as I cool his face.”

The master snarled, “Who is this slave, anyway? Why are you so anxious to care for him; is he your father?”

“No, he not be my fader.”

“Then he must be your brother, or your uncle.”

“No, Massa, he not my brudda or my uncle.”

“He’s a friend then?”

“No, Massa, He not my friend, He my enemy.”

“Your what?”

“Yes Massa, he my enemy, an’ Lord Jesus, He say to love our enemies an’ do dem good.” Elijah paused. “This slave, he be de man that sold me to the slave traders many year ago when I am a free man in my village in Africa. Now I finds him an’ does him good, like the Good Book say.”

Speechless, the master walked away!

Children’s Story – Something Better: The Story of a Shrine

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Miss S was in need of a strong man to draw her jinrikisha as she made her daily rounds, visiting and superintending the work of the daily schools under her care. Our faithful cook, who had become an earnest Christian since coming to work for us, had undertaken to find a suitable man.

“Sensei,” he said, returning one day from a tour of investigation, “I have found a young man who would be just the one for the place I think, but one thing makes him hesitate.”

“And what is that?” asked the missionary.

“Well,” he replied, “he is only just married and he and his wife would be glad to come here to work but his mother, who is old and dependent upon him for support, is very faithful in the worship of her gods, and especially of her husband’s spirit. And as her worship is her only satisfaction in life now, her son is afraid to go and live at a Christian place, for fear she would not be allowed liberty in her religious worship. As for himself and his wife, he said they were not particular about such things; but it was different with his old mother, and he could never consent to anything that would interfere with the happiness of her last days. I told him,” continued our cook, “that if they came to live here, he and his wife, being servants in the household, would be expected to attend morning worship daily, but that I was sure his old mother would be allowed perfect freedom to worship as she pleased in her own room.”

“You are right,” replied the missionary. “See the man again, and tell him that as we are not engaging his mother to work for us, she will be entirely at liberty to worship as she pleases, and never obliged to attend our Christian services. Only we can not permit the display of the emblems of her religion outside her own room or on our gateposts, of course.”

So they came, and took up their abode in the gatehouse. The tiny, wrinkled old lady who claimed the dutiful Cho as her son, evidently shrank in awe from the big, fearsome, “Foreign teachers”—specimens, to her, utterly foreign, truly, to everything she had ever known.

At a stated hour each morning the servants of the household were gathered together for instruction in the things of God. Miss S was the faithful and efficient teacher of this daily class, carefully explaining the word of God and the way of salvation, and leading these darkened souls into the light. Cho and his wife were regular attendants at the morning service, and after we had smiled a cheery “Good morning, O Baa San!” often enough to the dear, wee little woman sitting on the mats in her room by the gate, so that she was accustomed to the sight of us, as we daily passed by, and was losing her fear of us, an invitation was sent her to come with Cho and listen to the teaching. However, invitation after invitation was declined, and the missionaries quietly waited for the Spirit of the Lord to woo and win her.

Meanwhile Cho’s interest was awakened, and developed until at last he took Jesus to be his own Saviour, and erelong sought and received baptism. He gave up smoking, and began to live a quiet, consistent Christian life.

One morning, just as the morning service was beginning, in slipped the little old mother, quiet as a mouse, and dropped on the mats beside her son. No notice was taken of her, and the service went quietly on to the close, and then, as the members of the class bowed low with their heads to the floor—as is Japanese custom before taking one’s departure—the missionary said, quietly but cordially: “We are glad to see you here this morning, O Baa San.” Thereafter she came regularly to hear the “Jesus doctrine,” always quietly dropping in, the last one, at the little gathering, silently listening, and as silently slipping away again at its close. Whether or not any impression was being made upon the heart so long shrouded in the darkness of heathendom we had no means of knowing. But we prayed on.

Cho’s wife was getting supper ready for the little family in the gatehouse one evening. A baby daughter had come to cheer their home, and had been the unconscious means of drawing the delighted grandmother and the sympathetic foreign teachers nearer together. Just now, however, the wee treasure was tucked away in her quilts in a corner of the room, fast asleep, while Kinu, the young mother, was boiling rice, preparing the fish, and slicing the highly odoriferous pickled radish for the evening meal. A diminutive oil lamp dimly lighted the small apartment. It was early autumn, and the night was cool and clear, and the stars shone brightly down upon the quiet, temporary home of the Bible Training School, their light filtering down through the branches of the weeping willow that stood by the well, and resting tenderly upon the figure of a dear little woman, so small and so frail standing there in the shadows, with clasped hands and upturned face. “O God!” she pleaded, “if there be one true God, who has done so much for my son Cho, reveal thyself to me also.”

Presently one of the sliding doors of the gatehouse was quietly pushed aside from without and Kinu looked up inquiringly: “Where have you been, mother? I have noticed of late that you frequently slip outdoors of an evening. Isn’t it cold?” And to the amazement of the daughter-in-law came the quiet earnest reply: “I have been praying to Cho’s God.”

In the old lady’s face there was a new light, and in her heart a strange, deep, sweet peace—the answer from the unseen Lord.

We heard with great joy that this precious soul, so near the end of a weary lifetime, had at last found rest and peace, and we watched quietly to see the Spirit of the living God still further teach and lead on the soul so newly awakened.

Nothing was said about the old idol worship, nor about the worship of the husband’s spirit—ancestral worship, ever the strongest link in the chain that binds souls in the kingdom of darkness. But daily Miss S expounded the word of the Lord, and, all unseen to human sight, the good seed took root and grew up and bore fruit. Erelong our dear little lady asked to be baptized, and her request was granted.

One day we were both sitting at our desks in the one room that served us then as offices, dining and reception room, when there came a knock at the door. In answer to our “Come In!” the door opened and in came our wee O Baa San. Approaching the table, she placed upon it a small wooden shrine, the shrine at which she had so long and so faithfully worshipped the spirit of her deceased husband.

“Semsei,” she said turning to Miss S “you may have this shrine. I don’t need it any more I have SOMETHING BETTER.”

The End

Children’s Story – Ned’s Trust

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“Boy wanted.”

That was the neatly written sign that had hung so long in the window of Mr. Drake’s grocery store that people wondered why it was that it seemed to be so difficult for him to secure a boy, when the place was such a good one, with chances of promotion. But Mr. Drake could have told them that there were plenty of boys anxious and ready for the position, but that it was hard for him to find one with all the necessary qualifications.

In the first place, Mr. Drake required exceptional references, and in addition to that, good security for the boy’s honesty; and though most of the applicants for the position could bring references, none of them were able to furnish the necessary security.

Ned Bown’s face lighted up with hope one morning when he saw the notice on his way down town. Here was just the very chance he had been looking for, and he determined to apply for the vacancy at once.

“Mr. Drake, I want a place very much,” he said, as the merchant looked up from the newspaper he was reading when the boy entered the store.

“And I want a boy very much.” Mr. Drake answered. “So perhaps we can make a bargain. Can you bring me any references and security?”

“I can bring you references Sir,” Ned answered, his hope beginning to diminish at the mention of security.”

“That is good, but I have resolved never to take a boy unless some one has confidence enough in his honesty to be willing to go his security.”

“I am afraid I couldn’t furnish any security, Sir,” Ned answered sadly, as he realized that he had no friend from whom he would like to ask such a favor.

“Then I am afraid we can’t make any bargain,” and Mr. Drake took up his paper again, as if the matter was conclusively settled.

Ned walked slowly out of the store, thinking regretfully of the position he would have been so glad to obtain, and wondering whether in any way it would be possible to get the needed security.

He had almost forgotten about the matter two weeks later, when he went to a confectioner’s store with a school-mate who wanted to buy some candy.

It was a warm day, and the boys were heated with their walk. Presently Ned’s companion exclaimed,– “Wouldn’t this be a good time to get some ice-cream? Let’s get some . I haven’t enough money myself, but can’t you lend me some?” Ned shook his head.

“I only have the club money in my pocket, and of course I couldn’t use that.”

“Why not?” Harry asked. “It wouldn’t be any harm just to use it for a little while, and you could put it back again afterwards. You’re the treasurer, so it wouldn’t matter if you did use it, as long as you put it back again. Come on, like a good fellow, and stand treat. Some ice-cream would cool us off nicely,” and he made a move for the door of the ice-cream saloon that was at the end of the store, shut off by lace curtains.

But Ned shook his head resolutely.

“No, I can’t use it,” he answered firmly. “I don’t want to be disobliging, Harry, but it wouldn’t be right of me to touch a cent of this money. I’m sorry, for I would like some ice-cream as well as you, but indeed I can’t.”

“I think you’re altogether to particular about a few cents,” grumbled Harry. “Any one would think I was asking you to steal it to hear you talk. You can replace it as soon as you go home if you like, so what can possibly be the harm, I would like to know?”

“Well, you see it’s a trust fund,” Ned answered. “It’s money that has been put in my care, and I must be worthy of the trust. Mother says that’s just the way people begin, that end up stealing large sums. They take just a little at first, and think they will only borrow it and then put it back; and so they keep on taking a little more every time, until at last they take so much that they can’t replace it, and then they are disgraced. Now, if I don’t ever take the first step, I shall not go on to anything worse; and so though I could replace this money long before it will be wanted by the club, yet I would not touch a penny of it for anything. I’ll keep my trust.”

“I suppose I’ve got to go without the cream then, since you’re so mighty particular,” Henry answered rather ill-humoredly. “But you’ll find out that you won’t gain anything by being so much more honest than other people.”

A gentleman who had been sitting in the ice-cream saloon, hidden from the boys by the lace curtains looked after them as they passed out of the store, while a satisfied look rested on his face.

The next day, when Ned was passing Mr. Drake’s store, he was surprised at being called in, while Mr. Drake inquired,–

“Well, my boy, do you still want to work for me?”

“Yes, Sir, indeed I do,” Ned answered eagerly. “But I can’t furnish any security.”

“Well, I have determined not to wait any longer for the right boy to make his appearance, and I have made up my mind to give you a trial, and see how you suit me. I have reason to feel satisfied as to your honesty since I overhead your conversation with a friend in the confectioner’s yesterday. A boy who will not violate his trust in the smallest particular, may be trusted without any other security than his own word.”

“Don’t you think it pays to be honest, now?” Ned asked Harry, when he saw him a few hours later, and told him that Mr. Drake had engaged him.

“Well, maybe it did this time,” Harry grudgingly admitted, “but it won’t always.”

He had to confess his mistake, as he found that Ned was soon promoted to a position of responsibility, because his employer learned that he always kept his trust, and could be relied upon.

I think all boys may learn a lesson from Ned. Remember that a trust fund should always be held sacred, and never appropriated to any other uses. If this lesson was only deeply implanted in the hearts of all our boys, we would not hear so much about the dishonesty of those who hold positions of trust.

The End

Children’s Story – The Wormy Puffball

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We stayed in the beautiful Black Hills of South Dakota several times during a summer, a few years ago, while my parents were helping at a ministry there. Once while were there, a lady from the ministry picked a nice big puffball for us to eat (a puffball is a type of mushroom).

After waiting a day or two, we decided to cook it. We arrived at the cabin where we were staying, eager to find out what a puffball tasted like.

A little after we arrived, Dad called me up to the cabin door. He held the cut-apart puffball in his hand. Lo and behold, the whole inside seemed to be squirming! It was full of little worms!

I was thinking of how that puffball can represent us. From the outside it looked normal and appetizing. Just so, we can look pretty good on the outside—do things for people, go to Sabbath School and church every week, and act pretty nice—and yet we can still be pretty ugly on the inside—full of jealousy, anger, and pride. If we look pleasant on the outside but are nasty on the inside, we aren’t really Christians (Christians are like Jesus, you know); we are just pretending. That’s called living a lie.

A few days ago, on Sabbath, while we were walking in the hills near our house here in North Dakota, we found some more big puffballs. We broke them open and discovered something interesting—the top parts were good, while the lower parts had worms in them. The little worms evidently enter at the root end!

The devil begins to enter our minds at the deep roots. If you and I aren’t guarding our minds with Jesus’ help, we may not really even notice him until he really has control over us so that our words and actions start getting ugly, too.

Only God can help us keep the devil’s ugliness out of our minds. “Submit ourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.” James 4:7

Why not ask Jesus now to show you where the devil might be sneaking into your life and to help you overcome him? “Search me, O God, and know my heart: try me, and know my thoughts: and see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.” Psalm 139: 23, 24

The End

Children’s Story – The Runaway Horses

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Mr. and Mrs. Wallner moved to the state of Montana, where the government was offering property free to anyone who would settle on it and improve the land. They were required to fence the property, build on it, and put part of it into cultivation. So Mr. Wallner signed up for two sections of land—a total of 1280 acres. He was only allowed to homestead one section, but he had to pay for the other one, which he did.  He had no tractor or other locomotive equipment, for in those days farming was done with horses. He had several good teams, but one was especially strong and high spirited. They were a beautiful team of dapple gray horses. They loved to work and to run. Their names were Pete and Vick.

The Wallners lived quite a distance from any city, but there was a little store and post office about 15 miles away. The store keeper and the post master were the same person, and both businesses were in his home.

One day Mrs. Wallner hitched up Pete and Vick to the spring wagon. She bundled up her one year old boy and together they set off for the little store. After she had done her business she started back home. On her way she stopped in to see the neighbors who lived about two miles from her home.

The neighbor, Mr. Huff, warned, “Watch out, those horses are acting very nervous.” Mrs. Wallner said, “Oh, I can handle them.”

But when she got over the hill and in the site of home she found out the horses were indeed too much to handle. When Pete and Vick saw the barn, they left the road and started in a beeline across the sage brush for the barn at full speed. The wagon bobbed up and down, up and down, over rocks, sage brush, and dirt mounds.

Mrs. Wallner realizing that the wagon might turn over at any moment, and that it might cost the life of her baby as well as her own, she decided to pick up the baby and jump out of the wagon.
But just as she was in the process of picking him up, the wagon hit a huge rock and bounced into the air; she was thrown out and the baby was left in the wagon. Sitting there in the sage brush she offered an earnest prayer to her Heavenly Father and said, “Oh! Lord save my baby.” In an instant, the wagon became detached from the horses and it came to a stop. Of course, the horses kept running to the barn.

She thanked her Savior, and quickly went to see what happened. First of all she found her baby safe in the wagon. She also found that the bolt that connected the double tree to the wagon tongue, had been pulled out. She knew this was virtually impossible for the bolt was ten inches long, an inch in diameter, and had a large nut on it; but there it lay on the ground.

Although she never saw the angel, she was sure that the baby’s guardian angel had saved his life.

The End

Children’s Story – Rowena and the Pills

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Mr. and Mrs. Woods were a very fine young couple. One day Jesus gave them a lovely baby girl to make their home even happier than it was. Of course, they had to think of a name for this sweet little member of their family. Thus her name became Rowena.

Rowena was a sweet cuddly little baby, and she grew very fast. Time slipped by very rapidly for Rowena’s mother and father, as they were very busy people. Almost before they could realized it, their little child was three years old.

Well, one day the Woods family had to move. This was a big job for mommy and daddy, but Rowena just thought it was great fun. Things were scattered around and she could get into everything. She loved seeing what was in this box and that box. Moving turned out to be a great adventure for little her.

Especially was it fun when they got to their new home. For it had a stair way and upstairs rooms to investigate. Rowena had fun running up and down the stairs. But there was one room upstairs that Daddy had hooked shut, thinking that it was safe to lock out a little three year old girl, who was having fun getting settled in her new home.

The locked room was the room Daddy and Mommy were using for storage of the things that they were not needing at the present time. As mommy was cleaning up her kitchen she had a box of medications that were more in the way than they were useful, so she set them up on top of the refrigerator for a while. Then she decided that was not a good place, and since she was not using any of them, she decided to put them in the store room upstairs. That would be plenty safe, as the door was locked with a hook.

Little did Mommy know how clever their little three year old daughter was. One day when mother was very busy she paused for a moment and thought, “I wonder where Rowena is. She is so quiet and I haven’t seen her for a little while.” She called Rowena, but no answer. Mother began looking, never thinking that Rowena could get the locked door open. But mother went up the stairs, and there was Rowena in the store room.

Not only was she in the store room, but she had found the box of medications, and had consumed a whole bottle of carters little liver pills and a bottle of ionized yeast. Well, Rowena was already a very sick little girl lying on the floor.

Poor Mother, what was she to do? She had no car, as daddy had taken the car to work. She called a neighbor, who, as soon as possible, got in touch with Rowena’s daddy. He came home very quickly and rushed Rowena to the hospital. By the time she arrived there, she was unconscious.

The doctor and nurses began working on her immediately. They took a long rubber tube and put it down her nose, into her stomach and pumped out everything that was in there. They found the remains of the pills that Rowena had swallowed. The doctor shook his head and said that they did not think it would be possible to save Rowena’s life.

Mother called the minister of the local Seventh-day Adventist church, who came over to the hospital. When he saw little Rowena he too, realized that only God could save her life, so he anointed her with a little oil. He and the doctor with her parents knelt beside her bed and prayed that Jesus would heal little Rowena.

Jesus did heal her, but it took her a long time to get strong again. She had to learn to walk and talk all over again.

Is not Jesus wonderful? He loves the little children, and even when they make mistakes He wants to help them. But, it would have been better if she had not eaten those pills!

The End

Children’s Story – Dearer to Her Than Life

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“And it came to pass, that, as He (Jesus) was praying in a certain place, when He ceased, one of His disciples said unto Him, Lord, teach us to pray, as John also taught his disciples. And He said unto them, When ye pray, say, Our Father …” 

Luke 11:1, 2

If I call someone “Father” that means I am the child, and in the Bible God tells children how they are to be towards their parents. Exodus 20:12 says, “Honour thy father and thy mother,” and the Lord says through Paul, “Children, obey your parents in the Lord: for this is right” (Ephesians 6:1).

Jesus tells us, through His child Ellen White, “But if you call God your Father you acknowledge yourselves His children, to be guided by His wisdom and to be obedient in all things, knowing that His love is changeless. You will accept His plan for your life. As children of God, you will hold His honor, His character, His family, His work, as the objects of your highest interest. It will be your joy to recognize and honor your relation to your Father and to every member of His family. You will rejoice to do any act, however humble, that will tend to His glory or to the well-being of your kindred.” Thoughts from the Mount of Blessing, 105, 106.

Margaret lived in Scotland in the sixteenth century when Covenanters, followers of Christ through His servant John Knox, were thrown into prison, and many were martyred for their faith. Margaret was a Covenanter who ended up in jail for nothing more than belief in the Scriptures.

There she became friends with Mrs. Lauchlison, a fellow Covenanter who insisted on obeying Scripture rather than the king’s religion. The two encouraged one another in their cell, quoting Bible verses and praying for strength to endure to the end.

The day came when soldiers tied the hands of Mrs. Lauchlison and led her away to her execution. “Let me go too!” Margaret begged. Guarded by soldiers, she walked beside her friend to the beach where a wooden stake already stood at the water’s edge. Margaret watched as they bound her friend to the wooden pole. She stared as the tide came in, slowly raising the water level about the woman tied to the stake. Each wave brought the water higher about her body.

“What has the old woman done?” someone cried out of the crowd.

“She was found on her knees in prayer,” a guard answered.

As Margaret kept staring at her friend, the old woman’s wrinkled face seemed aglow with heavenly light. Margaret strained to catch her words above the crash of the waves. “I have promised to obey Thee, heavenly Father. Help me now when I am tested.”

The faint strains of a hymn sounded above the pounding waves. Margaret watched as they washed over the old woman’s head. “Lord, help me to be as faithful to Your word,” she breathed a silent prayer of commitment.

The next day Margaret was the one tied to the stake. As the tide came in, she recited Romans 8:31–39: “If God be for us, who can be against us? Who can divide us from the love of Christ? … For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Margaret and her friend Mrs. Lauchlison both honored their Father in heaven. To do anything different than they did would have been to dishonor, disobey and deny Him. Though their obedience to their heavenly Father cost them their lives on this earth, they are simply sleeping in their temporary beds until the great waking up morning, when their Saviour and Lord will awaken them to the joys of eternal life.

Pray that each one of us will make the same commitment to our heavenly Father that Margaret and Mrs. Lauchlison made, to be faithful no matter the cost. Then we also, on that great waking up morning when Jesus returns, will be with our Father and His only begotten Son, our Saviour, Jesus Christ, for eternity.