Children’s Story

Children’s Story – Learning to Work

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God has made man to find his greatest happiness and satisfaction in useful labor. It is the duty of every man to work. The idle man who wastes his time and his life is of no use to himself or to others. He often gets into bad habits and sins that if he were busy would not tempt him. The man who is too lazy to work for his living is the most ready to beg or to steal.

In ancient Israel, even the children of a king were taught some useful trade and to work with their hands.

In old Germany, all the boys of the royal family were taught some useful trade.

One of the ancient kings of Egypt made a law that all his people should come before their rulers once a year, and prove that they knew some trade by which they could earn their living. Any man who could not do so was put to death.

There was at one time a custom among the people of Holland that was meant to prevent idleness. When a man was found begging, who was able to work, he was seized, and put into a pit, into which water was allowed to run through a pipe.

At the bottom of the pit there was a pump to get rid of the water. But it was hard work to pump out the water that poured in; and if the man had stopped pumping, he would certainly have been drowned.

It was great fun for those who passed by to see an idle tramp forced to work in spite of himself and a few hours of this punishment was enough to cure a very lazy man. When he was quite worn out, he was ready enough to promise to work for his living in the future.

But it is not enough that a man should learn some kind of work. He should apply himself to his work with a will, and not waste his spare minutes or half hours. “Work while you work, and play while you play,” is a good rule for old people as well as young people.

There is no better habit than that of early rising, and this, like all other habits, is most easily formed in youth. A great French writer tells us how he managed, by the help of his servant, to get up early in the morning, and thus save much of his time.

“When I was young,” he says, “I was so fond of sleep that I lost half my time. My servant Joseph did all he could to help me to break off my lazy habit, but at first without success.

“At last I promised him five shillings every time he could make me get up at six o’clock. He came the next morning at that hour, and did his best to rouse me; but I only spoke roughly to him, and then went to sleep again.

“The next morning he came again, and this time I became so angry that he was frightened. That afternoon I said to him, ‘Joseph, I have lost my time, and you have not won your five shillings. You do not understand your work; you should think only of that I have promised you, and never mind how angry I am.’

“Next morning, he came again. First I begged him to leave me alone, then I grew angry, but it was of no use; he made me get up, very much against my will.

“My ill-humor did not last long after I was awake, and then I thanked Joseph, and gave him his five shillings. I owe to Joseph at least a dozen of the books I have written.”

Young readers, don’t wait until you have such a bad habit as that. Don’t wait until you have to pay someone to get you out of bed in the morning. Start today and determine that you will learn to rise early, and use your hours wisely. You will never regret the good habit.

Storytime Treasury, compiled by P. G. Temple, Harvestime Books, Altamont, Tennessee 37301.

Children’s Story – Kathy “Sees” Thanksgiving

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Jeanie awoke the morning before Thanksgiving Day with a happy and thankful heart. Usually she awoke every morning feeling this way because she was a happy little girl, but today she had a special reason for being thankful.

Jeanie and her parents lived on a farm in the United States quite a distance from town or from neighbors. There was a big white house across the road, but Jeanie could not remember anyone ever having lived in it. Then last week Daddy told her and Mother that a family with a little girl Jeanie’s age was going to move into the house today.

Swiftly Jeanie jumped out of bed and ran to her window to peek at the house across the road. Sure enough, there was a moving van unloading furniture onto the front porch.

“Oh, now I will get to meet my new playmate before Thanksgiving!” Jeanie exclaimed to herself as she hurriedly began to dress.

She was almost to the kitchen when she remembered something she had to do today. She had promised to gather the pine cones that Mother always used to decorate the table on Thanksgiving Day. Would she have time to search for them and visit the little girl across the road too?

Then a thought flashed into Jeanie’s mind. I’ll go see my new neighbor first and invite her to go with me to gather the cones.

By this time Jeanie was at the kitchen doorway. “Oh, Mother,” she sang out, “our new neighbors have come!”

Mother looked up from the plate of toast she was preparing and smiled. “Yes, I saw them. I am making some soup for their lunch. We will take it over as soon as it is ready.”

Jeanie nodded. She was glad Mother was making the soup, but she didn’t know whether she could wait so long to meet her new playmate.

“I’m going to invite the little girl to help me search for pine cones,” she told Mother. “Do you think she will like that?”

“Yes, I’m sure she will.” Mother looked a little thoughtful. “There is something, though, I think you should know. Daddy learned about it only yesterday and told me last night.”

Jeanie had been watching Mother and saw her strange expression. “What is it? Is it about the new neighbors?”

Mother nodded. “It is about the little girl,” she answered gently. “She can’t see as you and I see, Jeanie. She is blind.”

Jeanie put down the plates she was holding and stared at Mother. Blind! She had never known a blind person. In school there was Cindy who had to walk with crutches, but being blind was different. Not to be able to see at all.

Jeanie had read about several famous blind people, such as Hellen Keller, but she had never really thought much about them. She had never tried to feel what it would be like never to see the bright blue sky, the green grass, other people—anything at all. Why, it was night all the time in a blind person’s world.

Jeanie took a deep breath. “Then—then maybe she won’t enjoy going with me to look for pine cones,” she managed to say.

“I think she may.” Mother surprised Jeanie by her answer. “You can invite her anyway and find out what she says.”

Jeanie was glad Mother had helped her decide. At worship Jeanie prayed a special prayer for Jesus to help her be friends with her blind neighbor.

Later when the steaming kettle of soup was ready Mother and Jeanie went across the road to see the new neighbors. As they entered the front gate, Jeanie’s heart began to beat faster. A little girl just her age was standing on the porch.

The little girl spoke first. “Hello,” she called. “I’m Kathy. Do you live across the road?”

“Yes, we do,” Jeanie told her. “My mother and I have brought you and your parents some soup for lunch, and I would like you to go pine cone hunting with me.”

“Oh, I would love that!” Kathy exclaimed happily. She turned toward the doorway of the house. “May I go, Mother?”

Jeanie turned, too, in surprise. She certainly hadn’t seen Kathy’s mother come to the door.

After Kathy had gotten her mother’s permission, the girls started for the pasture where the pine trees grew.

“I’ve never seen a pine cone,” Kathy stated. 

Jeanie couldn’t help staring at her. And somehow Kathy knew that she was puzzled.

“I mean I’ve never touched a pine cone,” she corrected. “I see things by feeling them. I’ve never seen many of the things that go with Thanksgiving. My parents and I have always lived in an apartment in New York City. I’ve never seen a pumpkin or an ear of corn. I surely would like to sometime.”

“Oh, you can today!” cried Jeanie. “Daddy has corn and pumpkins in the barn, and we’ll gather cones from the pine trees in the pasture.”

It wasn’t long until Jeanie spied a large cone under the pine tree by the pasture gate. “Oh, here’s one,” she told Kathy and gave her new friend the cone to hold.

Kathy ran her fingers quickly over the cone at first. Then she touched it more slowly. “It isn’t at all like I thought it would be. I thought it would be rough all over, but parts of it are smooth.”

Jeanie laughed and held out a black walnut. “If you want to feel something really different, touch this.”

Kathy was fascinated by the texture of the walnut hull. Then she felt the bark of the trees and the gritty surface of a sand rock. After the girls had gathered enough of the cones, they hurried to the barn, where Jeanie showed Kathy the big yellow pumpkins and the ears of yellow corn.

“Oh, this feels like Thanksgiving!” laughed Kathy as she patted the biggest pumpkin in the pile. “What a pie it would make!”

“One almost big enough to feed all the Pilgrims!” humored Jeanie.

Kathy smiled. Then she looked serious. “I’ve read about the Pilgrims and about the first Thanksgiving in my Braille books, but I’ve often wondered what a Pilgrim looked like.” 

Jeanie smiled, too. “I wish I had a Pilgrim to show you, but I—” Then she stopped right in the middle of her sentence and caught Kathy’s hand. “Come to the house. I do have a Pilgrim to show you. Two of them, in fact!”

When they were inside the house, Jeanie took Kathy to her room. “Here, sit in my rocker, and I’ll get my Pilgrim dolls from my doll collection. Grandmother got them for me two years ago at Thanksgiving. They are a Pilgrim man and a Pilgrim woman.”

Jeanie put the dolls in Kathy’s hands and told her about each doll’s clothing, the colors, and how the man carried a Bible in his hand.

Kathy sat for a long time touching the dolls. Then she turned toward Jeanie with joy and wonder in her face. “Oh, Jeanie, this has been such a wonderful day! I’ve never really been able to know about the things that Thanksgiving means because I couldn’t touch them. But today you really have helped me to “see” Thanksgiving. I think I want to thank Jesus for you.”

Jeanie took the Pilgrim dolls from Kathy and put them back with her doll collection. Then she took Kathy by the hand. “And I want to thank Jesus for you too,” she said. “So let’s thank Him together right now.”

On the rug beside Jeanie’s bed the two little girls knelt down and gave a special prayer of thanksgiving to Jesus, even though Thanksgiving was still a day away.

Heaven, Please! Helena Welch, 122–127.

Children’s Story – The Little Lost Lamb

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Judy did not know Bootsie was lost until she went upstairs to get ready for bed. Bootsie was Judy’s favorite doll. Bootsie was a fleecy, little lamb with soft, white wool all over. Every night for several years Judy had tucked Bootsie under the covers beside her and pulled his soft, little body against her cheek before she went to sleep. But tonight she couldn’t find him.

“Mother, have you seen Bootsie?” Judy called down the stairs. “Did you look under the bed?” her mother answered. “He must be somewhere in your room.” But they couldn’t find Bootsie anywhere.

“Judy,” said her mother, “you were up at Mrs. Garland’s house this afternoon playing with Ann. Did you have Bootsie with you?” “Oh, yes, Mother; I believe I did.” “Do you suppose you left Bootsie at Ann’s house?” her mother asked. Judy could not be sure, so her mother phoned Mrs. Garland.

“No,” said Mrs. Garland, “Judy did not leave Bootsie here. I remember distinctly that she had him in her arms as she started home. She also had two story books and her roller skates. It was quite an armful. Do you suppose she dropped him on the way home?”

“Judy,” said her mother, after she had finished talking with Mrs. Garland, “can’t you sleep with one of your other dolls tonight? We will see if we can find Bootsie in the morning.” Just then Judy heard the sound of rain on the roof, and the tears came to her eyes. “Oh, Mother,” she said, “if I lost Bootsie on the way home, then he’s out there in the rain. He’ll get cold and wet. Please let us go find him. I can’t go to sleep without my Bootsie.”

“If you love Bootsie that much, we will go try to find him.” A few minutes later, with raincoats, overshoes, umbrella, and flashlight, they started out in the rain to look for Bootsie. “Judy,” her mother said, “you try to remember exactly which way you walked home from Mrs. Garland’s.”

“I came the short way down the hill through Mrs. Garland’s back yard,” said Judy. So together they walked up the hill in the direction of Mrs. Garland’s house, toward her back yard. About halfway up, beside a rosebush, they found Bootsie. Judy all but cried for joy as she gathered her little lamb into her arms. Back home a few minutes later, she carefully wiped the cold rain from Bootsie with a towel, wrapped him in a nice, warm blanket, then tucked him under the cover in the bed beside her.

The Story of the Good Shepherd – Luke 15:1–7

In the time of Jesus there were many men who made their living by raising sheep.

There were no fences in the pastures, and good grazing land was scarce. Often a shepherd would have to tend his flock many miles away from his home to find grass for his sheep, and sometimes one might fall behind or wander away and be lost from the flock. Each night the sheep were kept in a place called a “fold” – a closed-in space where they would be safe from wolves and robbers.

One day Jesus told the following story to the people who had come together to hear Him teach.

There was once a shepherd who had a hundred sheep. One night as he brought them into the fold he missed one. Quickly he counted them again. Yes, there were only ninety-nine.

He started back to hunt for the lost sheep. It was a long journey back to the valley where the sheep had been grazing that afternoon and it was growing dark. Robbers and wild beasts might be lurking along the way. None of these things mattered to the shepherd. He was thinking only of his lost sheep. Could it have fallen into a pit? Perhaps its leg would be broken. He hoped and prayed that the wolves would not find it before he did.

Troubled by these thoughts, he hurried on. Ever so often he would pause, and over the hills his voice would roll, calling his sheep. At last an answer came, a pitiful bleat from the distance in front of him. The shepherd ran the rest of the way, guided by the bleating sounds that became clearer and clearer as he came closer. Yes, the lost sheep had fallen into a pit. Apart from a few scratches from the rocks and briars, it was unharmed.

Gently the shepherd lifted it to his shoulder. All the way back he carried it, his heart bursting with joy and gratitude because he had found it safe and sound. Back home he rubbed oil into the wounds made by the rocks and briars; then he put the rescued sheep into the fold with the others.

However before he went to bed that night, he called in his friends and neighbors to tell them what had happened. “It meant much to me to find my sheep,” he said, “that I wanted you to know about it and share my joy.

Jesus told this story as a lesson that God loves and cares for each one of us as this good shepherd loved and cared for his sheep.

Parables from Nature, by J. Calvin Reid.

Children’s Story – Four kinds of Soil

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One day Jesus was teaching by the side of the lake of Galilee. As the crowd increased, many were not able to see or to hear Him. So He entered into a boat, rowed a little way out into the lake, and from that point taught the people as they stood along the shore.

Jesus knew that some of them were deeply interested in what He was saying, while others were there only because of curiosity, so He told them this story found in Matthew chapter 13.

There was once a farmer who went out to sow his seed. As he walked across his field, scattering the grain far and wide, some seeds fell upon a path by the side of the field, and later the birds came and gobbled them up.

Other seeds fell among the rocks, where there was not much soil. These seeds sprouted and tried to grow, but because there was so little soil for their roots, they withered away and died under the hot sun.

Still other seeds fell in a weed-and-briar patch. These, too, tried to grow, but the weeds and briars grew faster and choked out the good seeds.

But there were some seeds that fell in the good, soft soil of the farmer’s field. These sprang up and grew and brought forth a wonderful harvest. Some stalks produced a hundred grains, some produced sixty, and others produced thirty.

Later Jesus explained to His disciples what He meant by this story.

When one hears the word of God without trying to understand, he soon forgets what he has heard. The seeds of truth are snatched away from his mind, just as the seeds of grain that fell upon the wayside path were carried away by the birds.

Another person may hear the word of God with joy and go his way intending to practice what he has heard. Later, when others laugh at him or call him sneering names, he loses his courage. Thus his good intentions weaken and die, as the grain among the rocks, where there was not much soil, withered under the hot sun.

Another person may listen with his mind full of other thoughts. He may be thinking about making more money and having a good time, or he may be worrying about what may happen tomorrow. So the word of God finds no place in his heart. It is choked out like the seeds of grain that fell among the weeds.

But there is another kind of person—one who listens, who wants to understand, and tries to practice what he hears. Such a person’s life pleases God just as the fruitful grain growing in the good soil pleases the farmer.

Parables from Nature, by J. Calvin Reid, Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., Grand Rapids, Michigan.

Children’s Story – A Mother’s Love

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The story was reported of a mother’s sacrifice during the Japan earthquake.

After the earthquake had subsided and the rescuers reached the ruins of a young woman’s house, they saw her dead body through the cracks. But her pose seemed somehow strange, for she knelt on her knees like a person who was worshiping; her body was leaning forward, and her two hands were supporting an object.

With great difficulty the leader of the rescue team put his hand through a narrow gap in the wall to reach the woman’s body. He hoped that this woman would be still alive. However, her cold, stiff body told him that she had passed away for sure. The collapsed house had crushed her back and her head.

The team left this house and moved on to search for life in the next collapsed building. But for some strange reason the team leader was driven by a compelling force to go back to the ruined house of the dead woman. Again, he knelt down, wriggled his hand in through the narrow cracks to search the little space under the dead body. Suddenly, he screamed with excitement, “A child! There is a child!”

The whole team worked together; carefully they removed the piles of ruined objects and under the young mother’s dead body they rescued a three-month-old little boy wrapped all snug in a flowery blanket. It was obvious that the woman, desperate to save her son had made the ultimate sacrifice. When her house was falling, she used her own body to make a shelter to protect her son. The little boy was still sleeping peacefully when the team leader picked him up.

The medical doctor came quickly to examine the little boy for injuries and when he opened the blanket he saw a cell phone inside the blanket with a text message on the screen. It said, “If you can survive, you must remember that I love you.” As the cell phone was passed around from one hand to another all of the rescuers that read the message wept. “If you can survive, you must remember that I love you.” Such was the mother’s love for her child!

This world is collapsing all around us. Every day brings more news of disaster and death. But there is One who loves even more than this little Japanese mother who gave her life that another would have the opportunity for life.

“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth shakes and the mountains slide into the sea, though the oceans roar and their waves foam, or the mountains sway in the bottom of the sea.

“There is a quiet stream called the River of Life that makes us glad. It begins at the heavenly Sanctuary and flows through the Holy City of God, the place where God Himself lives. God is also with us in our city and does not intend for Jerusalem [or our city] to be destroyed. Even if we die, He will be with us until the resurrection morning. When God speaks, nations crumble and the earth itself melts.

“The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge. Look at what the Lord has done! He has caused amazing events to happen on earth. He will stop all wars. He will halt the flying arrow, break the strongest spear and set on fire the weapons of mass destruction. Fighting will stop everywhere. He will say, ‘Be still and know that I am God. My name will be exalted among nations, and I will assume my place as King.’

“The Lord of hosts is with us. The God of Jacob is our refuge.” Psalm 46 (paraphrase).

This world is on a collision course and its time is running out, but before it is to be completely destroyed, God sent His only Son into this world to provide a shelter to everyone who believes in Him. He wrapped us in His arms of security and then took the brunt of the wrath when He died the cruel death of the cross so we could live on. When we realize that we have been saved at the cost of His life, we realize that His love for us is even greater than that expressed in the text message of a dying mother to her child, “If you can survive, you must remember that I love you.”

Children’s Story – The Foolish Rich Man

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One day Jesus was teaching a great crowd of people who had come together to hear Him. After He had finished, a man came up to Him and said, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide with me the property which our father left us.”

But Jesus refused to be drawn into their selfish quarrel. “I am not a judge or a divider of property,” He said.

After the man had gone his way, Jesus turned to His disciples who had heard the conversation and said: “Watch yourselves and stay away from selfishness; for life is not measured by how much a man has.”

Then to illustrate His meaning, He told them this story:

The land of a certain wealthy man was very rich and brought forth such a large harvest that the man said, “What will I do, for I do not have enough room to store my crops?”

It did not occur to him to give some to the poor, nor did he thank God for his good fortune. Instead he said to himself, “This I will do—I will tear down my old barns and build bigger ones, and then I will have room for my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, ‘Soul, you have plenty of goods stored up for many years; take it easy, eat, drink, and have a good time.’ ”

But God was much displeased because the man was thinking only of himself. And God said to him, “You are a very foolish man. Tonight your life comes to its end. After you are gone, whose will these things be that you call yours?”

By this story Jesus was teaching that in the sight of God true wealth consists not in what a man gets, but in what he gives.

This story found in Luke 12:13–21.

Parables from Nature, by J. Calvin Reid, Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1954, p. 13–15.

Children’s Story – Sowing Seeds

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It is the beginning of a new year. Many people make resolutions that they hope will make a difference in their lives. Unfortunately, most of them are not fulfilled. This year why not resolve to protect your heart from the enemy.

“Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.”

Philippians 4:8

Early Sunday morning, Dr. Reed called his children to come out into the garden for a seed-planting game. They selected a plot of ground where they had planned to sow winter rye for the chickens.

“We will use only a small part of this good ground for our game,” announced Daddy Reed, as he set a few stakes to mark off a small corner of the plot. Then he took from his pocket three envelopes. Handing one to Harold, he said, “Son, you may take this dock seed and scatter it as evenly as you can over this corner of the plot.”

Harold objected. “Why, daddy, why plant dock seed? We’ll have an awful time pulling up the plants when they once get started.”

“It’s part of the game,” said the doctor, handing another envelope to Linda. “You may plant this hemlock weed seed.”

“Hemlock!” exclaimed Linda in surprise. “Isn’t that a poisonous plant?” She could scarcely believe her ears when daddy replied, “Yes, it is very poisonous, but this is only a game; we’re just playing it for fun. So scatter the seed over the ground.” Then he gave Betty Lou and Eddie some dandelion seed.

“Ready! Now plant!” came the orders; “scatter your seeds carefully.”

Harold looked at his father as if to ask, “Do you really mean for us to do this foolish thing?” The only response to his questioning look was, “Go ahead and plant the seed!”

Slowly, hesitatingly, the children began to drop the seeds.

“Our seeds are flying away,” exclaimed Eddie. He and Betty Lou ran here and there trying to catch the fluffy things, but the breeze carried them off. Only a few of the dandelion seeds reached the damp ground, which held them fast.

“Now, children, you have sown the seed. The game is to see how many of these seeds you can find and put back into the envelopes.”

“Oh, no!” objected all the children.

Then daddy went on to say, “There is another kind of seed that we are planting every day in the gardens of our hearts. Either we are helping Jesus plant good seed, or we are helping the evil one plant bad seed. Satan has many people working for him, helping scatter bad seeds in the minds of boys and girls, where they will grow into poisonous plants.

“The men who print these books and papers telling about the foolish or wicked things that people can do, and the naughty tricks of children, illustrating their stories with ugly pictures, are helpers of Satan. They try to make these bad things appear as funny as they can so those who read them will think it smart to do the same kinds of things themselves. Other helpers of Satan pile these books on the newsstands where young people will be tempted to spend their nickels and dimes for them. Others make up nonsense pages which go into the newspapers for the entertainment of boys and girls.

“Some of these books and papers are silly. They are like the dandelion seeds that cover the ground with useless plants and keep good seeds from finding a place to grow. They fill the mind with foolishness, so there is little room for the good thoughts which make life beautiful.

“Some are like the dock seeds, which grow big, ugly roots that are hard to pull up. They leave bad pictures in the minds, which are almost impossible to forget.

“But the very worst of all these worthless books are the ones that tell of wicked deeds, like shooting, and stealing, and other sinful things. These bad books are like the poisonous hemlock. They fill the mind with thoughts of sin and crime.

“Now, children, I hope that you will finish this seed planting game and gather up as many of these seeds as you can so they will not spoil our garden. Remember, every one you pick up now will save hard work digging out weeds later on. You may put the seeds back into their envelopes as you gather them up.

“Put the dandelion seed into this envelope marked The Funnies. The dock-weed seed goes into this one marked The Uglies. And this one, for the hemlock seed, I have marked The Crimies.”

The children objected even to trying to find the tiny things, but daddy insisted that they make the effort. An hour later they came into the house tired and discouraged.

“We’ve lost the game,” Harold had to admit, as he handed the almost empty envelopes to his father.

“The seeds are so small we can’t find them, and the dandelion seeds all flew away,” Eddie complained.

“The only thing we can do now is to dig the weeds out early in the spring before they get big,” Harold concluded.

Daddy looked serious as he said, “It will be a hard task to dig out the weeds you planted today in your garden, but not nearly as hard as it would be to uproot the weeds of sin in your lives, if you should be foolish enough to let their seeds into your minds.”

The children all agreed that they would do their very best to keep the bad seeds out, and to sow only good seeds, that would bear beautiful flowers and precious fruit for Jesus.

Happy Home Stories by Ella M. Robinson, Teach Services, Inc.

Children’s Story – Why Read the Bible?

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The story is told of an old man who lived on a farm in the river valley of West Virginia with his young grandson.

Each morning, Grandpa was up early sitting at the kitchen table reading from his old worn-out Bible. His grandson who wanted to be just like him tried to imitate him in any way he could.

One day the grandson asked, “Papa, I try to read the Bible just like you but I don’t understand it, and what I do understand I forget as soon as I close the book. What good does reading the Bible do?”

The grandfather quietly turned from putting coal in the stove and said, “Take this old wicker coal basket down to the river and bring back a basket of water.” The boy did as he was told, even though all the water leaked out before he could get back to the house. The grandfather laughed and said, “You will have to move a little faster next time,” and sent him back to the river with the basket to try again.

This time the boy ran faster, but again the old wicker basket was empty before he returned home. Out of breath, he told his grandfather that it was “impossible to carry water in a basket,” and he went to get a bucket instead. The old man said, “I don’t want a bucket of water; I want a basket of water. You can do this. You’re not trying hard enough,” and he went out the door to watch the boy try again.

At this point, the boy knew it was impossible, but he wanted to show his grandfather that even if he ran as fast as he could, the water would leak out before he got far at all. The boy scooped the water and ran hard, but when he reached his grandfather the basket was again empty. Out of breath, he said, “See Papa, it’s useless!”

“So you think it is useless?” The old man said, “Look at the basket.”

The boy looked at the basket and for the first time he realized that the basket looked different. Instead of a dirty old wicker coal basket, it was clean. “Son, that’s what happens when you read the Bible. You might not understand or remember everything, but when you read it, it will change you from the inside out.”

Take time to read a portion of God’s word each day; it will affect you for good even if you don’t retain a word. God’s love is like the ocean; you can see its beginnings but not its end.

Children’s Story – Pennies from Heaven

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In the early 1990s, soon after I came into the truth about God’s law, the Sabbath, and the eight laws of health, my wife and I were visiting our daughter in a small town in South Carolina. I had already decided to become a vegan vegetarian, and I was going to fix some Mexican food for lunch that day.

The town where my daughter lived didn’t have a grocery store with a lot of selections; so I drove over to another town seven miles east of there. Being so new in the faith, I was still a little unsure that I could trust God completely. While I was shopping for the meal I was going to fix, I thought as I looked in my shopping cart, “Everything that is in there is good for me.”

As I was checking out, the clerk observed what I was getting and asked me, “Having Mexican today?” Then as she commented about all the things I could put on the food that were contrary to my recent decision to “go vegan,” I thought to myself, “I’m not putting those things on there.”

She was cheerful and friendly, and as I looked at the digital readout of my purchase, I noticed that my change should be $10.22. Then she handed me $10.20. I remember thinking, “I wonder why she didn’t give me the other two cents?” Then I erroneously thought that maybe they don’t mess with such a small amount in South Carolina.

As I was leaving the store I was musing in my mind, “I wonder why she didn’t give me all my change?”

Just as I got out of the store, I looked down and saw a penny on the ground. I picked it up, and then noticed another penny nearby. As I picked it up, this thought came into my mind, “Jim, you can trust Me, even in the little things. Here’s your change.”

At the time this experience gave me courage, and over the years, just when I need it, I will sometimes find another two cents.

Shortly after this experience, I was walking around town to give the book, The Great Controversy, to the couples that my wife and I had played cards with in a local card club which I had decided to stop attending. As I walked about town distributing books, I ran out and returned home to get one more book, as I only had one more couple to visit.

After I picked up the book I walked out of my driveway, and there lying in the gravel at the edge of the road lay two cents.

Another time some friends were coming to town for a visit, on either Friday or Sabbath evening. I remember asking myself, “How am I going to keep the Sabbath while they are here?” I decided to go for a walk before they arrived.

As I walked past the junior high school, it was already dark, but as I went toward a street light on the other side of the parking lot, I saw two shiny objects there on the ground. I was too far away to tell what they were, but I didn’t need to, because I knew it was two cents—confirmation to me that God would guide me through my friends’ visit.

Once a brother in Christ and I had traveled to another town in northeastern Kansas to visit a family on the Sabbath to give them some encouragement. After the other brother had led out with the Sabbath message and we had eaten lunch, we all went for a walk. As we were walking I told my two cents story. Shortly after I finished the story, the man in the family found some money on the street. It wasn’t two cents, but it seemed an appropriate postscript to the story I had just told.

There have been other times when I have found just a penny. I’ll always look around for the other one. Sometimes I find it; sometimes I don’t.

Once another brother and I went out after fellowship dinner at the church to pass out some literature. I told him my two cents story. I finished just as we arrived at the parking lot across from where we intended to pass out the material. We got out of the car and went to the trunk. Just behind the car directly beneath the center of the trunk lay two cents. I get encouraged every time this happens.

Once I was back in South Carolina on the Sabbath. As I have done in the past, I find other Adventist believers in that area and arrange to meet them for fellowship. On one such occasion a brother and sister met me at a park somewhere north of the Citadel in Charleston. We had arranged to meet, have worship, then share a picnic lunch in the afternoon. I gave a short message about the truth, and as part of my presentation, I told them my two cents story. We had sat on a park bench together, and after we finished worship and had prayer we got up to walk back to where our cars were. There on the ground just by the park bench lay two cents that we had not noticed before.

There are some Bible and Spirit of Prophecy quotes that I claim quite often. “Lord, I believe. Please help my unbelief.” Mark 9:24. “Lord, take my heart; for I cannot give it. It is Thy property. Keep it pure, for I cannot keep it for Thee. Save me in spite of myself, my weak, unchristlike self. Mold me, fashion me, raise me into a pure and holy atmosphere, where the rich current of Thy love can flow through my soul.” Christ’s Object Lessons, 159.

My hope is that as we go on to perfection, we can help each other along the way. Please, Lord, don’t let us die in our sins. May your page and my page in heaven be clean. Amen.

Children’s Story – “Willie’s Drowned!”

by

Children Story – “Willie’s Drowned!”
By

These spring nights are chilly. I hope our guests bring blankets with them.” Clarissa was speaking to Jenny as they set up cots in the bedrooms and the living room of the White home. There was to be an important meeting, and The Review had printed notices that the friends in Battle Creek, Michigan, would entertain all who came. The Whites were expecting a houseful of guests.

The publishing office had been moved from Rochester, and the Whites now lived at Battle Creek. The Adventists in Michigan had invited Elder White to bring the publishing work to their state, and they had promised to build a printing office. So the publishing business had moved to Battle Creek.

James and Ellen White lived in a small house with their three little boys and their two faithful helpers, Clarissa Bonfoey and Jenny Fraser.

On this particular afternoon everyone was bustling around getting ready to entertain the guests who were expected the next day. The women were cleaning house, Henry and Edson were raking the yard, and baby Willie, now twenty-two months old, was playing about, getting in everybody’s way and enjoying the excitement as much as his older brothers.

The rough board kitchen floor had been scrubbed, and a tub of dirty suds was left sitting in the middle of the room. As Jenny passed by on her way to gather chips for starting the cookstove fire, she noticed the baby standing beside the tub.

“What are you doing, Willie?” she asked.

“Sticky boaty! Sticky boaty!” chirruped the little fellow, pushing a small wooden pail around in the water with a stick.

Coming back up the steps a few minutes later, Jenny thought of the baby. Where was he? She hurried into the kitchen, where she heard a gurgling sound.

A tiny foot was sticking out of the water! She snatched it, pulled the baby out, and ran screaming to find his mother.

“Willie’s drowned! He’s drowned! He’s drowned!” she shrieked.

Mrs. White came running from the front room and met her in the doorway. “Jenny, was the water hot or cold?”

“He’s drowned! He’s drowned! He’s dead! He’s dead!” the girl kept screaming.

Mrs. White seized Jenny by the shoulders and, shaking her vigorously, asked, “Jenny Fraser, tell me, was the water hot or cold?”

“Cold,” gasped the terrified Jenny.

“Then give the child to me. You send for the doctor and call James.”

“Run for the doctor! Run for the doctor!” the girl shouted to a young man standing nearby. He began to run. Jenny followed, slapping him on the back and shoulders and shouting, “Run! Run! Run!”

By this time Mrs. White was in the front yard with Willie. Using a pair of scissors she had snatched up as she ran, she cut away his clothes. As she rolled him over and over on the grass, quantities of dirty water poured from his nose and mouth. She continued rolling the little body. James White arrived and stood silently praying and watching as the minutes ticked by. Ellen lifted Willie and looked for signs of life. There were none. She laid him down and rolled him again. More water trickled from his mouth.

Neighbors gathered and stood with sad, pitying faces, watching the mother’s efforts. Fifteen minutes passed, and still Willie’s condition was apparently hopeless.

“How dreadful to see her handling that dead child!” said one woman. “Somebody take that dead baby away from her.”

“You let her have her baby!” retorted James White with unusual emphasis. “She knows what she’s about.”

Twenty agonizing minutes passed, during which Mrs. White saw no signs of life. She lifted the limp form and held his cheek against hers. She kissed the cold lips. What did she see? The flicker of an eyelid, a slight pucker of the lips?

“I believe he’s trying to return my kiss!” she cried. “There must be life! There is life! There is life!”

She carried the limp form into the house. “Jenny, quick! Bring some cloths and heat them.” Ellen wrapped the hot cloths around Willie’s cold body, changing them frequently. She held him up again, close to her face. “He’s breathing! He’s breathing! My baby’s alive!” And she hugged him to her. “Thank God! Thank God!” she said over and over. Tears of joy ran down her cheeks.

Preparations for the visitors continued the rest of the day without my grandmother’s help. Not once did she let Willie out of her arms, for although he was now breathing naturally, she knew he was not entirely out of danger.

If Grandma White were here today I know what I’d do. I’d put my arms around her neck and whisper in her ear, “Dear Grandma, I’m so glad you didn’t get discouraged working over that little drowned baby.” You see, when he grew up he had a baby girl of his own, and I was that baby girl. And I think the children and grandchildren of my six brothers and sisters would say, “We’re glad too!”

Stories of My Grandmother, page 100, by Ella Robinson, 2000, Review and Herald Publishing Association.