prints,” Miss Wheeler nodded. “ Oh, no!” Jewel instinctively drew back. She didn’t want to think about the nail prints in His hands! After the song, the quartet gave their testimony with Miss Stewart interpret ing. With their fingers, they told how they thanked the Lord for dying for their sins. Jewel squirmed in her seat. They couldn’t speak and yet they thanked Him for saving them, and she who could hear and speak perfectly, had never thanked Him. The pastor began to speak, but Jewel didn’t hear much of what he said be cause she was staring at Myra Stewart’s constantly moving fingers. Every time the pastor used the name of Jesus, Myra pointed to her hands. Jewel felt as if those fingers were pressing against her heart. His nail-pierced hands . . . He died on the cross for her sins. Jewel drew in her breath. Her sins had nailed Him there . . . the time she kept the change when her mother sent her to the store, the time she was so angry at her young er brother that she slapped his face, the time she wouldn’t speak to the new girl because her dress was faded, and her shoes were old . . . those things had driven the nails through the hands of Jesus. His nail-pierced hands. Jewel snuggled closer to Miss Wheel er, but she didn’t feel any better. Miss Wheeler was listening to the pastor and though she put her arm around Jewel, she did it casually, without any warmth. Jewel felt all alone and her heart ached. She closed her eyes so she couldn’t see Myra Stewart make the two quick points to her hands. When the pastor repeated the benedic tion, Jewel turned to Miss Wheeler and sobbed, “ I must accept Jesus, I must.” “Yes, dear.” Miss Wheeler led her to the bench before the pulpit, and they knelt while Jewel begged the Lord to forgive her for not accepting His sac rifice sooner. When she rose, the church was nearly empty. Only Miss Stewart and the mutes stood near the pastor. Jewel went shyly toward the group, an eager look on her tear-stained face. “ Do you want something, dear?” Miss Stewart asked. “Please, how do you say Christ in sign language?” “ I’ll show you.” She took her right hand and cupped it like a C, the thumb forming the lower part of the C and the four fingers the upper part. She put her hand to her left shoulder, then she carried it horizontally across to her right hip, and explained, “ It is to sym bolize the ribbon that the nobility wear across the front of their dress.” “ Oh, thank you,” Jewel smiled at the mutes. Then she walked out of the church, practicing the sign for Christ, happy that she need not think only of His nail prints, but she could also think of Him now, as Christ, her Lord and King. . T H E K I N G ' S B U S I N E S S
J EWEL edged her chair away from the other girls—she didn’t want to hear what they were saying. She was in her Sunday school class. Fern and Barbara had accepted the Lord as Saviour last Sunday and Doris two weeks ago, and all they talked about was how much they loved the Lord. Jewel wasn’t a Christian. She had made up her mind that she would be one some day, but not for a long time, not at least, until she was grown up and had some fun first! The bell rang. Relieved, Jewel jumped up. “ Aren’t you going to stay for church, dear?” Miss Wheeler, her teacher, asked with a friendly smile. Jewel twisted a blonde curl around her finger and hesitated. She didn’t want to stay. She didn’t want to hear any more about Jesus right now. But she didn’t like to say “No,” to Miss Wheeler, who was always so sweet. “ Can’t you stay?” Miss Wheeler urged, “ The deaf-mute quartet is going to sing for us.” “How can they sing?” Jewel exclaimed with sudden interest. Jewel went upstairs into the church with Miss Wheeler and the other girls. They sat on the front row, but Jewel, still feeling “ out of things,” sat by her self on the other side of Miss Wheeler. A group, moving their hands, oh, so very fast, came down the aisle. The second she saw them, Jewel was fas cinated. There was a tall, slender lady, two very young girls, and two young men. They, looked like normal, happy people, but they did not talk. They only moved their hands. They sat on a row of chairs on the platform, facing Jewel and the rest of the congregation. Jewel decided .that the iady was the leader of the group. She moved her hands like Page Eighteen “ Stay and see.” “Well, all right.”
graceful doves. Jewel couldn’t take her eyes off of them. The service began, and as the pastor spoke, the lady’s finger moved rapidly, interpreting what he said, to the quar tet. Jewel thought it looked odd for the quartet to be intently watching this lady’s hands, instead of looking at the speaker, as everyone else in the church was doing. “And I want to introduce Miss Myra Stewart,” the minister announced. “ She has been called of God to work among His silent sheep.” The lady with the slender, graceful hands rose, and walked to the center of the platform. As she talked, her hands continued to move, telling the mutes what she was saying. “ It is a pleasure to worship with you today. The young people in our quartet are all Christians and are happy to sing, ‘Take the Name of Jesus With You’.” The quartet lined up an arm’s length apart. Miss *Stewart went to the piano and began to play. Jewel was fascinated by the way the quartet kept perfect time to the music with their hands. They couldn’t hear; how could they do it? And how sad it must be to not be able to sing! What must it feel like? Jew el’s throat hurt at the thought. After the special song, everyone, in cluding the mutes, sang, “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Sweetest Name I Know.” As she sang the words, Jewel watched their hands and it seemed as if she could al most figure out what some of the differ ent signs stood for. Yes, she was sure Miss Stewart touched her right middle finger to the center of her left palm when she said Jesus. She did more than that—she first touched her right middle finger to the palm of her left hand, then her left middle finger to the palm of her right hand. Jewel whispered, “I think I know which sign means Jesus.” “ They touch their palms for the nail
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