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B y Helen Frazee -Bower
K arbara Lynn lay on the floor, her red braids bobbing up and down with every motion of the pencil, as she covered a paper with the long zig-zag lines that to her five-year-old mind was writing, “I’m writing my ’solutions, Grand- mommie,” she said. Her grandmother smiled. “And what may those be?” she asked. “Don’t you know? The things I am going to do different next year. My Mommie told me that’s the way people do for New Year’s Day.” “Oh, you mean resolutions. Let’s hear some of your resolutions.” “Well, this one says, ‘I will always put my things away.’ And this one, ‘I won’t ’terrupt.’ Right here it says, ‘I won’t cry when Mommie combs my hair.’ ” “And don’t forget, ‘I won’t bang the door,’ ” said Grandmother. “And ‘I will eat my meals without coax ing.’ ” “All right, I’ll put them down next.” The little girl went on with her scribbling and her grandmother went out into the kitchen to make a pie. She was just putting it into the oven when she heard a wail from Barbara Lynn. “Grandmommie, Grandmommie, come here, come here quick! Karen is tearing my ’solutions.” Grandmother hurried to the rescue, but too late. The baby already had the paper in bits. “She didn’t know any better, dear, she’s only a baby, you know.” “Yes, but now they’re broked and my Mommie says you musn’t break your ’solutions.” “You could make them again, couldn’t you?” “They’re already broked,” the lit tle girl repeated stubbornly, “ and I can’t put them together again.”
“Well, let me put Karen down for a nap and then we will see what we can do about it.” When Grandmother returned she took the little girl in her arms and smoothed her hair a moment. “Shall I tell you a story?” she asked. “ Is it true?” Barbara Lynn always wanted to hear true stories. “ Indeed it is. It came right out of the Bible. It’s about Moses.” “Oh, that! I know it already. His Mommie hid him in the bulrushes and Pharaoh’s daughter found him.” “This is a different story,” said Grandmother. “ It happened after he grew up. One day he went up into a high mountain where God talked to him and gave him the Ten Com mandments written on tablets of stone. He was to take them back to the people as their rules to live by.” “Like my re-e-e-solutions?” Grandmother smiled. “ Something like that,” she said. “Only Moses didn’t get his broked, did he? Karen wasn’t there.” “Oh, but he did!” laughed Grand mother. “He broke them himself. When he went back down the moun tain, he found all the people had grown tired of waiting for him and they had made a golden calf and were worshipping it instead of God.” “Really? That was dumb.” “Yes, wasn’t it? Moses thought so too. He became so angry with the people that he dropped the tablets and broke them. So the law was broken before the people' ever re ceived it.” “And they never saw their re-e-e-e- solutions, huh?” “Oh, yes, they saw them. God gave them to Moses again. But this time the people broke them themselves— not the stones, but what was on them.”
“You mean they didn’t keep the rules?” “Just that, dear. They couldn’t, you know. People can’t be good just because they are told to. God has to come and make them good. That is why Jesus was sent to die for our sins.” Barbara Lynn thought a moment. “You mean I couldn’t have kept my re-e-e-e-solutions, anyway?” “ I doubt it. I think a better way is to ask God to help us every day and to remind us just what He wants us to do and be. You know the Bible says, ‘If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.’ ” “How about little girls?” “ Little girls too. We all become new creatures when we accept Christ.” “ Creature?” Barbara Lynn looked disgusted. “ I don’t think I want to be one. It sounds like an animal.” “Well, you could say ‘creation’. It means about the same thing.” Barbara Lynn smiled and climbed down from her grandmother’s lap. “ I like that better,” she said, “ It sounds like a new hat. I’m a new creation, I’m a new creation!” she chanted,, as she picked up her tom papers and put them in the waste basket. “ I guess we won’t need these any more,” she said, “But anyway I did remember to put my things away.” “You certainly did. And you are a dear:” Barbara Lynn grinned. “No, I’m a new creation. And do you know something? Karen is too little now, but when she is five and knows every thing like me, I’m going to tell her about Jesus so she can be a new creation, too.”
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THE KING'S BUSINESS
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