June, 1937
THE K I NG ' S BUS I NES S
213
Junior King's Business By MARTHA S. HOOKER
A GOLDEN KEY B y F rances N oble P hair Illustration by Ransom D. Marvin
B ig round raindrops splashed upon the window pane and broke into little rills chasing each other out of sight over the sill. Ann could hear the gentle hum of them against the roof and their gurgle as they tumbled down the rain spout and splashed into the garden below. She could see them dancing on the new green leaves of her favorite tree, and she knew
day,” for it was then that she had been “born again” into God’s family. Seating herself beside her patient, Miss Foster said mysteriously, “Ann, I have a wonderful present for you.” The little girl’s eyes grew wide with surprise. Miss Foster had nothing in her hands. “ It is a golden key,” continued the nurse, “for it opens the door of A Joyful Life. It
that they puckered round the corners, Ann said softly, “ Heavenly Father, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ I thank Thee— for all Thy blessings and for the rain, too.” She sighed wearily, and the short nap on the white bed was refreshing. But when she was back in the chair by the window, the rain still poured. “ Oh, look!” they both exclaimed together. A big umbrella, the edge of a long rain coat, and two sturdy galoshes were all they could see bobbing and splashing through the gate and toward the house. “It must be Clarissa,” cried Ann joy fully. Miss Foster, listening at the head of the stairs, called back softly, “No; Mary An derson.” “Oh,” Ann’s tone was full of disappoint ment, and her face clouded. “The Key! Quick!” whispered Miss Fos ter. Ann swallowed hard and closed her eyes. When she opened them she smiled into the plain, pleasant face of Mary Anderson. Mary was a short, sturdy girl with freckles on her nose. Just now she was shy and her face full of questioning. Suddenly Ann knew why. Mary knew Ann would rather have had Clarissa. Ann was a popular leader with the girls, a bit “ stuck up and selfish,” some of the girls thought. “ So that’s what I’ve been like I” she said to herself. But aloud her greeting was hearty. She was glad to, see Mary. Hadn’t she just thanked God that her visitor was Mary? The half hour flew by, and forgetting she had been saving the news to tell Clar issa first, Ann told Mary the happy secret of her “second birthday.” Mary beamed with understanding. “ I’ve had mine, too,” she said happily. “ You can do something for the Lord Jesus,” said Ann wistfully. “ I may have to stay in another month.” “ Yes,” said Mary, “we are going to make baskets of flowers and take them to the hos'- pital and put a pretty Scripture card in each one.” , “ Oh, I wish I could do something, too,” sighed Ann. “You write such funny rhymes for our good times—why don’t you write something for Him?” Ann’s eyes grew wide. “ Oh, could I, do you think?” “Try and see,” Mary suggested. For a few minutes both were silent while Ann bent over a piece of paper, her pencil moving, now rapidly, now slowly. “ Do you think this would do?”
they were falling on the bright faces of the flowers just out of sight under her win dow, but her pale face wore a wistful smile as the white-capped nurse with a rustle of starched skirts came in and said cheerfully as she set before Ann a tempting t r a y , “ It takes the showers to bring the flowers.” A little later, as she lifted the tray that was almost as heavy as when she brought it, she exclaimed play
is in that beautiful Book on the table, and it is so small that many people never find it. But when any one finds and uses it —it always w o r k s . Sometimes it seems as though a real miracle happens— ” “ Oh, where is it, Miss Foster?” cried Ann as she reached for “that beautiful Book,” her precious new Bible. With a lit tle help she found the place, Ephesians 5:20. Slowly she read it:
fully, “But I think the roof must be leak ing; the showers seem to be falling inside!” Her little patient in the big chair by the window laughed and brushed away the tears that had crept under her lashes and were beginning to trickle over her white cheeks. “ I know it’s silly, .Miss Foster, but.Clar.- issa hates going out in the rain, and I don’t think any of the other girls will remember that this is the day the doctor said I could have my first visitors. And . . . and . . .” —the pale cheeks grew pink for a moment — “ I do want to tell Clarissa about my new birthday.” Miss Foster nodded sympathetically. “ Yes, I understand,” she said. Then she carried the tray downstairs, and when she came back, her thoughtful face was very bright. No one understood motherless ten-year- old Ann so well these days as loving Miss Foster did, for only a few. weeks before, the little girl had very nearly slipped over the border of that realm that lies beyond our earthly life. Then as she began to come back into life, very early in the morning, the first day of the week when the Easter bells were ringing out their message of joy, Miss Foster gently and simply had told her little patient the way of salvation. And Ann had understood and accepted God’s love gift; the Lord Jesus Christ, as her Saviour; and a new life, eternal life, had begun for her. She called that day her “ second birth-
“ ‘Giving thanks always for all things unto God and the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.’ ” She looked up with a puzzled expression. “ I don’t understand,” she said. “What does it say?” asked Miss Foster. Ann read it again and paused doubtfully. “Does if mean to thank God for everything —even if you don’t like it?” “ Isn’t that what it says?” answered Miss Foster, smiling. “Things like— rain?” “Would not ‘everything’ include rain, too ?” Ann sighed. “But honestly, Miss Foster, I don’t see how I can feel thankful for the rain.” Miss Foster gravely pulled her glasses down on her nose and squinted through them at the page until Ann laughed. “But,” Miss Foster said gravely, “ I am looking for that word ‘feel’— I can’t seem to find it!” “But if I didn’t feel it, would it be hon est?” asked Ann very seriously. “My dear,” said ‘her nurse with earnest ness, “ always take what God says. Your will is the real you, not your feelings. Sooner or later your feelings follow your will.” Ann was silent for what seemed a long time. “ Does a key ever open anything until it is used?” asked Miss Foster gently. Ann looked at her steadily. “ I will use it,” she said. With eyes closed so tightly
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