the treasure hunt
by Martha S. Hooker
getting up and moving her chair to a place beside the window. “ Get your Bible, and we will both sit here while we play our game.” Peter dropped down on the low stool at Grandmother’s side, his new Bible in his hand. “We are going to find our treasures by looking in God’s Word,” she ex plained. “ The verses that you find first, you may read, and those I find first, I shall read. The first will be Job 38:22.” Peter read, “ ‘Hast thou entered into the treasures of the snow?’ ” He looked up surprised. “ Treasures — in the snow? I never thought of that.” The next clue for the hunt was Job 37:6. This time Grandmother found it first, and she slowly read, “ ‘For he saith to the snow, Be thou on the earth.’ You see, Peter,” she explained, “ in the earth’s cradle, mil lions of tiny seeds are sleeping, and if it were not for the nice snow blan ket, these tiny seeds would be frozen. They could never grow to be plants and trees. “ The snow is important for an other reason,” Grandmother went on. “ In the winter it is stored up on the mountains. Then when warm weath er comes, it is melted, and water flows to refresh the dry places on the earth.” “ I guess snow is pretty necessary after all, isn’t it?” questioned Peter. “ Indeed it is! . . . And now, our next stop on our treasure hunt is at Psalm 147:16.” Peter read, “ ‘He giveth snow like wool.’ ” “ Snow is one of God’s gifts to earth. And what a beautiful gift it is! See how softly the snowflakes fall — like bits of fleecy wool. If you could look at each one through a magnifying glass you would see a beautiful figure in the shape of a six-pointed star.” “Why — that’ s wonderful!” ex claimed Peter.
« P e te r B l a ir stood with his face pressed against the window pane of the living room. “ Oh dear! It’s snowing again,” he complained as he watched the big white flakes coming down faster and faster. The ground was white, and the branches of thé trees were bend ing low under their load of snow. “ All my plans are spoiled — just spoiled.” And Peter looked as if he might cry. “ God made the snow,” reminded Grandmother Blair from her chair by the fireplace. She sat knitting a sweater for Peter’s big brother who was in the army. “ I know He- did, Gram,” Peter re plied. “ But I don’t see why He had to have it snow again today when I had such particular plans.” “ Perhaps He has better plans for you today.” “ But Gram,” argued Peter, “what could be better than spending a whole day at Ted’s, on the ranch? We were going horseback riding this morning,
and his dad promised to take us on a hike this afternoon. I’ve counted on it a lot; and now it’s snowing — and the road’s blocked — and the snow plow’s broken!” He slumped down on the window seat, and looked very un happy. Grandmother laid aside her knit ting. “ Peter,” she said, “ I think a treas ure hunt would be something like a hike, wouldn’t it? I know of a thrill ing one — a snow treasure hunt.” Peter was puzzled. “How can we ever have a treasure hunt? It’s snow ing too hard for anybody to hide the treasure,” he said. “ Oh, this is a new kind of treasure hunt — different from any you know about,” c o n t i n u e d Grandmother. “There are a number of treasures to be found. But there is one that is very special. I hope you will find it.” “ So do I!” Peter’s face was bright with interest. “Very well,” said Grandmother,
THE KING'S BUSINESS
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