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ing your homework, I went to prayer meeting at the church.” “You always do, Mamma,” reminded Lollie. “Don’t interrupt, darling. Well, we didn’t have a regular prayer meeting. Instead, a missionary who has been traveling all over Europe told us about the needs of the poor people in those lands where the war was fought. The things he described nearly broke my heart. He said there were hun dreds of little orphan babies who would never grow up because they could get no milk or nourishing food. He said that men and women—some of them old and sick—wait in lines for just one bowl of soup made of flour and water; that boys and girls like you two are crying and begjging and even stealing bread in the streets. Every day people are dying because they haven’t enough to eat, and now the cold winter is coming on . . .” It was difficult for her to go on. “So, you see, I thought . . . well, we have good, plain food, and our little house is warm, and . . .” “I know, Mamma, I know!” shouted Kip, “let’s give them some of our big turkey!’’ Lollie, brushing away a tear, turned to him impatiently, “Oh, silly, we couldn’t send our dinner 'way over the ocean. But we could send some money, couldn’t we, Mamma?” Their mother, with a warm, loving look, drew her children to her. “Lis ten, my darlings, I have it all figured out. If we were willing to give up our Thanksgiving turkey, which is the most expensive item of the meal, we could still have a nice little dinner with roast and cranberries and pie. Then we could send all of the rest of the money, including what is in your banks, to Europe by this missionary to help buy food for some of the boys and girls there. Our Lord Jesus said, ‘Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these . . . ye have done it unto me,’ and we can better show how thankful we are for His blessings to us by doing something for someone else than by keeping so much for our selves. But it is entirely up to you children. I promised you a turkey, and you know I keep my word. We will not change the plan unless you say so." There was silence in the room as the children stood within the circle of their mother’s arm, their eyes cast down, their faces very grave. Know ing well the struggle taking place In their hearts, Mamma breathed a si lent prayer for them. After a while they looked up, and said almost to gether: “All right, Mamma! We’ll send our turkey to Europe!” , Mamma hugged t h e m tighter. “ You’ll pever be sorry, my dears. The Lord Jesus will make it up to you, too,
(ty n ta tm o A
A s told by M rs . A nna M . D ennis Well-known Bible Teacher
morning you, your mother, and your brothers and sisters would have gone to the garden of your home and up the stairs on the outside of the house to the roof. You would have spent the day on that flat, sunny, pleasant, safe place. You and the others would have studied, and worked and played all day long. Mother and sisters had to weave all the clothes for the family. Perhaps £>ig sister on this day would have been weaving back and forth, back and forth on a narrow, soft, white strip of linen cloth. And it would have grown longer and longer. Do you know what she was making? Clothes for the baby, for when the baby was ready for its little dress, you would have seen mother take the end of this swaddling cloth, hold it under the little arm, and wrap it carefully round and round the little body to the feet. Then round and round over the little arms and hands—right up to the neck and tuck it in. Thus the baby was dressed in swaddling clothes. During the morning, I know you would have gone to the wall to see what you could see. That would have been just what you had seen many times before. You look across the hills and see shining in the sun the round, golden top of the temple of the city of Jeru salem. The temple itself is of beautiful white stone, as are many of the houses of that city. These, with the green of the trees and vines make it a beautiful city of white and green—with its high wall and great gates. In between you see the hills. On the hills you can see flocks of sheep nibbling at the short, dry grass. On this hill a shepherd and his flock, over on this hill another shepherd and his flock, and coming around the hill is a third shepherd leading his flock. You can see the road winding among the hills from Jerusalem to Bethlehem. There is the well at the gate of Bethlehem, and the high wall around the city. The road up the hill seems to end right at the high gate which leads to the inn where visitors who have no friends in Bethlehem are going to stay for the night. Then you can see houses just like yours, other mothers, other sis ters, and other little folks. And sometime during that morning, the little people come to mother’s knee and say, “Mother, tell us a story.” Mother hardly needs to ask what story to tell, for it must be the one about King David and how he was born in this same city of Bethlehem. That (Continued on Page 25) T H E K I N O ’ S BUS I NESS
A T this time of the year, we are each trying to think of something that we can give to folks we love; some thing that they can touch and see and feel, which will say to them, “I love you.” When we think of the gift that we would like to have for some one we love very much, we try to think of something that person needs; for if he needs it; he will use it. And when he uses it, he will think of the one who gave it. I wonder what you would do if you found that the person you love needed mpst, the very best thing you had. Of course, if you loved him enough, you’d give it. That is what our Heavenly Father did on that first Christmas. What we needed most was the very best that He had, His only Son, and He gave Him to us. When you get that gift from the one who loves you, what are you going to say? Ypu are going to say, “Thank you.” A long time ago a man tried to say, “Thank You” to the Heavenly Father for the first Christmas Gift. He cduldn’t think of a word to say how wonderful that Gift was, so he just said a great long word that meant, “I can’t think of a word.” He said it this way: “Thanks be unto God for his upspeakable gift.” Let’s say it together. “Thanks be unto God for his unspeakable gift.” And this is the way God sent that “unspeakable gift.” If you had lived in the little city of Bethleljem on the day before the first Christmas, do you know where you would have spent most of your day if it had been bright and sun shiny and pleasant? Early in the just see if He doesn’t. Anyway you will not only bring gladness to His heart, and make some starving little children happy, but you, too, will be filled with the joy of sharing the good gifts of God.” “Will you be happy, too, Mamma?” asked Loljie. An extra hard squeeze was her mother’s reply. As the children went out to play, Kip remarked, “I think we’ll have a swell Thanksgiving, even if our tur key is going to Europe.” Lollie, remembering her geography, said with a giggle, “There’s already a Turkey Jn Europe.” “Does it have a wishbone, too?” asked Kip, as they burst into a gale of laughter. Mamma, hearing the merry sound, breathed jier own thanksgiving to God: “ I thank Thee, Father, for put ting some of Thy love and compas sion into the hearts of my little ones.”
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