Page 28 - BR-May-2018
P. 28

May 2018                                                                             May 2018


                                  During the prayer time one ten year old girl, Ruth,
                                  prayed with the usual blunt conciseness of African
                                  children  .  “Please  God,  “  she  prayed,  “send  us  a
                                  hot  water  bottle  today.    It  will  be  no  good
                                  tomorrow,  God,  as  the  baby  will  be  dead,  so
                                  please  send  it  this  afternoon.”  While  I  gasped
                                  inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she added
                                  “And  while  You  are  about  it,  would  You  please
                                  send  a  dolly  for  the  little  girl  so  she’ll  know  You
                                  really love her?”
                                  As  often  with  children’s  prayers,  I  was  put  on  the
                                  spot.  Could I honestly say “Amen”?  I just did not
                                  believe that God could do this.  Oh yes I know He
       can do everything; the Bible says so.  But there are limits, aren’t there?  The only
       way God could answer this particular prayer would be by sending me a parcel
       from the homeland.  I had been in Africa almost four years at that time, and I had
       never, ever  received a parcel from home.  Anyway, if someone did send me a
       parcel, who would put in a hot water bottle?  I lived on the equator!
       Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses’ training school,
       a message was sent that there was a car at my front door.  By the time I reached
       home the car had gone, but there on the veranda was a large 22 pound parcel.
       I felt tears pricking my eyes.  I could not open the parcel alone, so I sent for the
       orphanage children.  Together we pulled off the string, carefully undoing the knot.
       We folded the paper, taking care not to tear it unduly.  Excitement was mounting.
       Some thirty or forty pairs of eyes were focussed on the large cardboard box!

       From the top I lifted out brightly coloured, knitted jerseys.  Eyes sparkled as I gave
       them out.  Then there were the knitted bandages for the leprosy patients, and the
       children  looked  a  little  bored.    Then  came  a  box  of  raisins  and  sultanas  –  that
       would make a batch of buns for the week-end.  Then as I put my hand in again I
       felt the ... could it be?
       I grasped it and pulled it out.  Yes, a brand new
       rubber hot water bottle.  I had not asked God to
       send  it;  I  had  not  truly  believed  that  He  could.
       Ruth  was  in  the  front  row  of  the  children.  She
       rushed  forward,  crying  out,  “If  God  has  sent  the
       bottle, He must have sent the dolly too!”

       Rummaging down to the bottom of the box she
       pulled out the small, beautifully dressed dolly.  Her
       eyes shone.  She had never doubted!  Looking up
       at  me,  she  asked,  “Can  I  go  over  and  give  this
       dolly to the little girl, so she’ll know that Jesus loves
       her?”  “Of course,” I replied.

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