TH E K I N G ’ S B U S I N E S S
A New Year Meditation
By DON H IL L IS * as told to A N N E HAZELTON
B HE half-starved beggar lifted his bowl in entreaty toward the endless stream of oxcarts plod ding past him on one of India’s hot, dusty roads. White dust swirled about him and settled in his long, matted hair and over his partly clothed body. But no one gave heed to his cry. Then suddenly his heart lifted as he saw, far down the road where it almost vanished into a thin ribbon in the heat haze, an approaching procession. A crowd was coming. It must pass him before long. He thought: “Perhaps if the gods are kind, I shall receive a few extra grains of rice, or even a small coin or two.” The procession drew near. Uniformed officers walked in front and around a magnificently caparisoned elephant, and on the elephant sat a prince, dressed in royal robes, his jewels blaz ing in the sun. To the beggar’s amazement, the royal procession stopped immediately opposite him. This was an undreamed of opportunity. Stretching forth his hands, he lifted his voice in the fa miliar pleading tones of the beggar, *Served as a missionary in India under the Scandinavian Alliance Mission of North Ameri ca from 1937-1944: He is now a member of the faculty of the Bible Institute of Los An geles, teaching Public Speaking and Church History until the way opens for his return to India .
and petitioned the prince to have mercy upon him. Joy and hope filled his heart as he saw the prince dismount and walk to ward him. The beggar’s hands shook in anticipation, and he wished he had a larger bowl to receive the prince’s gift. Then on his dismayed ears fell the words of the prince: “Beggar, give me some of your rice.” “But, honorable sir,” , the beggar stammered, uncomprehending, j “it is all I have.” The outstretched hand of the prince did not waver as he repeated his re quest. “Beggar, give me some of your rice.” “Oh, great King,” the beggar sobbed. “ I have such a little—and I starve.” For the third time the prince, his hand still outstretched, requested, “Beggar, give me your rice.” Slowly, reluctantly, the b e g g a r reached into his bowl and from its meager contents he counted out three of the smallest grains and put them into the hand of the waiting prince. The prince deliberately cast the rice aside. Carefully he counted out three small nuggets of gold from his vast store and dropped them into the beg gar’s bowl. Without a word the prince turned, mounted his elephant, and moved on, leaving the beggar staring at the three gold nuggets in his bowl. [ Continued on Page 27]
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