JUNIOR KING'S BUSINESS Edited by Martha S. Hooker
A TRUE M ISS IONARY STORY
by Phyllis Richens
who have never seen a Bible, and hundreds of villages where there is no church. When the women saw the Bible fall out, they asked excitedly: “ Are you a follower of Jesus?” “Yes,” replied Gin. “We are too,” said the women, “and there is a little church in our village. You must come with us for a meal and stay all night.” What a difference when the women knew Gin was a Christian! Of course he went with them to their homes. When the men came in, they also were very kind to Gin, and asked him to preach to them after the even ing meal. The women brought Gin a great bowl of guinea corn porridge, and refused to let him pay for it. Late that evening, when they had all finished eating, and had ended the little church service, Gin was loaned a grass mat on which to sleep. As he was lying there, he thought over all that happened to him that day and said to himself. “ If that donkey hadn’t brought the Bible, these peo ple might never have known I was a Christian, and I would have been sleeping out in the field all night. Perhaps the wild animals or snakes would have bothered me. God made the donkey remind me to read my Bible!” The next morning Gin brought some corn and gave his little donkey an extra dish of it because he said, “ The donkey gave a testimony for my Lord when I failed to do so.” “ Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven” (Matthew 5:16). TH E KING'S BUSINESS
hill,” and she pointed to a hill that barely showed up in the darkening distance. Gin knew that they thought he was a thief, and were trying to send him away. He also knew that when some one says, “ It’s not very far,” that it may be miles away. So he decided to sleep under the stars in the very next farm. When he had passed the small vil lage, he came to a big field where he saw that the grass was just right for his little donkey. Taking the load off his back, he hobbled its legs so that it couldn’t run away; then he sat down nearby to eat his peanut cakes. It was his custom every night that after he cared for his donkey, to take out his Bible and read it before it got too dark to see. Some times if he wasn’t too tired, he would sing some hymns that he had learned at church. This time, how ever, he just felt too tired to read or sing. He laid his little red bundle down by the pack that he had taken from the donkey and sat down to eat. Suddenly the little donkey who had been munching the grass, stopped eating, and picking up the little red bundle with his teeth, hobbled over to Gin. Still holding the bundle in his mouth, he shook his head back and forth in front of his master until the Bible fell out. Then he shook it again and the hymn book fell out. As Gin sat there, wondering at his donkey, some women whom he had seen working in the field, passed by with the grain on their heads. They too had seen the donkey’s actions, and had stopped. There are many people in this land
“^ lip - clop ! clip - clop !” went the \i donkey’s small feet as he trot ted slowly along the narrow stony path in Nigeria. Gin, the young boy who was driving the donkey, looked up at the sky, and said to himself: “ The sun is sinking lower; I must find a place to spend the night.” He was tired, and so was his little don key after traveling all day in the hot sun. He looked at his little animal and saw how the heavy pack was rubbing a sore on his back. The pack was really two bundles tied with a strap so that one would hang down on either side to act as a balance. Gin’s master was sending him to market to sell produce, and wanted him to buy salt to bring home. Gin himself had a little bundle on his head, wrapped in a red cloth. In it was his Hausa Bible and hymn book, and some little peanut cakes to eat. Gin was a Christian who loved the Lord Jesus very much. Gin knew that he was nearing a village because of the farms that he was passing. Soon he came to a house, and leaving his little donkey by the side of the path, he walked over to the women who were working outside the mud hut. “Would it be possible to find a place to sleep in your compound?” he asked very politely. “No, we haven’t any place. Our houses are full. In fact, we don’t think you will find a place in the whole village,” the women said roughly. “ It would be best for you to go to the next village,” said one of them. “ It isn’t very far. Just go over that 46
Made with FlippingBook Online document