August 1931
364
T h e
K i n g ’ s
B u s i n e s s
is being widely used in Daily Vacation Bible School work. The twenty-nine il lustrations which it contains are useful as blackboard suggestions. Both books are procurable from the author, 536 So. Hope St., Los Angeles, Calif., at 75 cents a copy. ______ W hat to P ra y F o r s p i l l s month , pray especially for Jew- 'Cj ish children: first, for those who suf fer, ' as Leah did (for hers is a true story, or, rather, several stories in one) ; second, that many others may come to know Jesus as their Messiah; and finally, for all Jewish children everywhere. How the Lord must love these children of His own racel Standing where the car had left her, she lifted her hands and her eyes to heaven, and sobbed, “Dear Lord Jesus, I have no home, no father nor mother. I have no one—but Thee. But that ,is enough. Help me now. I am lost and afraid. I’ve never been lost nor alone like this. Help me, dear Lord Jesus. Help me now." Another flash of lightning and a roar of thunder, with a sudden heavy down pour of chill rain, were more than the unhappy girl could bear. She fell to the ground, unconscious. At the same mo ment, the door of a near-by house opened, and a woman stood there. She saw the lonely figure fall, and she dashed toward it, calling to a .man within the house to come with her. The two were quickly at Leah’s side, and as the strong arms of the man lifted her, the woman saw her face. “Leah, child!” But to the surprised ex clamation there was no response. As her companion bore his limp burden to the house, the' woman continued, “Her par ents must have turned her out, as they said they would. God forgive—and save them. I thank Him that I was here, and that I opened the door at just that mo ment. What a God we have I” “Amen,” came the deep voice of the man. “You know her?” he questioned. “Yes. She is one of our dearest mis sion girls, a devoted believer, and a lover of Jesus, her Messiah.” As they strove to bring Leah back to consciousness, the mission worker told the man and his wife—Jews who were also believers—something of Leah. Their hearts were full of love and pity for this one who was suffering, as they also had suffered, for Jesus’ dear sake. . It was found impossible for Leah to leave that night, and indeed for four weeks. The separation, the fright at be ing lost, the shock of the storm and the chill of the beating rain brought the once sheltered, happy girl very near to death for a time. It was decided that only in the event of extreme danger should her parents be told. But all the while, Leah and her new friends, with the mission worker, prayed in faith and hope for those so dear to the sick girl. “And He will answer. For did He not answer me instantly and wonderfully when I,was lost and in the storm?” Such was Leah’s faith. \To he continued .]
Two letters, pro and con (if they come that way) will be printed in your column, unsigned unless indicated otherwise. Let us hear from you. Notice Glad Songs, from which verses in this and other issues are taken, is a book of sixty-seven selections usable in the home, the Sunday-school, and in church and mis sion work. Words and music are by Helen Howarth Lemmel. The songs are adaptable to every age and department. The increasing demand for The Story of the Great King (running serially, in abbreviated form, in the J unior K ing ’ s B u sin ess ) is very gratifying. The book ou must give up this Jesus, or leave this house. Choose now between Him and your. father and mother.” The stern voice of her father, once so tender and loving, and the sobs of her mother, who stretched out her hands to her pale young daughter, broke Leah’s heart. But she made no reply. “Choose now. This is the last time I shall speak of it. I ask you again: Is there anything we could do that we have not done to make you happy?” “No, Father,” came faintly from the pale lips. “You were happy with us until you learned and believed this lie about Jesus being the Messiah.” “Yes, oh yes, Father,” sobbed the girl, “but—” “Stop. I will not listen to what I know you will say. It is a lie to which you cling, and you must give it up, or—go 1” “I cannot give up Jesus, Father. It is you— you —who have taught me to think and know for myself, and now—” The father took Leah’s words out of her mouth. “And now—go! You are dead to us.” Leah, dazed but tearless now, left the room. Soon after, carrying a small bag that held only a few clothes and her precious Bible, she left the house. She saw neither her father nor mother, but she knew the latter longed to tell her of her grief, arid to comfort her as best she could, although she stood with her hus band against this new-found faith of their fourteen-year-old daughter. Leah made her way to the street cor ner where she waited for the car that would take her to the mission, her only refuge. Though threatened, it had seemed no more possible that this could happen than that she could deny the Lord Jesus. Numb with the suddenness and hopeless ness of it all, she stood, until a car came which she boarded. Dropping into the one vacant seat, she was conscious of nothing until the con ductor came to her and said gruffly, “Last stop. I’ve called it three times.” He had missed her in collecting the fares, and she, frightened by his manner, left the car, being the last one in it. Not until after the car was gone did Leah realize that she was in a place totally strange to her. It was evidently the edge of the city, and the few scattered houses were small, and some of them were un pleasant. A vivid flash of lightning and a crash of thunder added terror to the heart of the lonely girl.
T he E ditor Speaking Dear Juniors: I cannot wish for you a more wonderful, beautiful summer than I have had and am still having in this lovely California. Within a short dis tance of where I am, there are the desert, the mountains, the woods, and the sea. Standing in one place, I can see the snow (that lies all summer on some of the highest mountains), and at the same time the orange groves, with both fru it-g o l den balls of beauty—and fair, waxen blossoms. As I look at these trees, I am reminded of what the Bible means when it speaks of “apples of gold in pictures [or frames, really] of silver.” It is a sentence that the Holy Land explains. All the round fruits in Palestine are called apples. The orange tree, as has been said, bears both fruit and flower at the same time; so the “apples of gold” are set in glossy, dark green trees, among silvery blossoms which are truly “frames of silver.” What a rich tree it is—so good to look at, its fruit so good to eat, and its per fume so exquisite! Do you know where in the Bible God says that His own shall be like trees? He means that they shall be like this kind of tree—good to look at, because they are becoming more like His beloved Son; , “fruitful in every good work,” and living so that they may be a “sweet savor,” a fragrance as of Him. How can we be like this? By letting the Lord Jesus come into our hearts which He has made to be His home. Then, let ting Him be “our life,” as the sap is the life of the tree, we shall be what God wants us to be—glorious trees in “the garden of the Lord.” Lovingly, Y our E ditor . Your V ery Own C o rn er J esus • esus is our best Friend, A Friend that can never fail; He guards us through the long night, • And leads us along life’s trail. The author if this poem is Joan Porter, ten years old, Azusa, Calif. P aren ts and T each ers he order for the summer season seems to be a friendly talk together, rather than a grouping of lesson suggestions ; so I am telling you in this issue of a mother and teacher who, with many others, shares the problem of providing for fam ily needs. In her extremity, she was cast upon the Lord. It became her supreme desire and request that she be given to know and enabled to do the will of God in every department of her life. Just at that time there appeared in the newspaper an advertisement, placed there by a legitimate, well-known drug store, asking for letters containing reasons for buying from that firm. The best letters were to be awarded prizes, varying ac cording to the value of the letters. The mother wrote a letter that was un doubtedly unique in form and clever enough in subject matter to put it in the race for the best prize, which was in the hundreds of dollars. What she did, it may be permitted to tell you later. But what would you, a Christian wholly de voted to the Lord, have done?
THE STORY OF LEAH
Made with FlippingBook - Online magazine maker