JUNIOR K ING ’S BU S IN E SS
Jonathan’s Big Day
by Betty Bruechert
“ Hey, calm down, who, what, where?” asked one of the men as the other opened the back door of the car and motioned to Jonathan to climb in. At any other time the thrill of sitting in a police car would have overcome Jonathan, but Mr. Nelson’s car had to be found. He told the officers what he had seen and in which direction the car went. After calling their station and asking that roadblocks be set up, the officers put on the siren and sped down the street. But there was no blue car in sight. So they drove back to the vacant lot but there was no sign of the other two boys. So they pounded on Mr. Nelson’s door until they aroused him. He came to the door, looking very sleepy and say ing he had worked all night and what was the racket all about. When the policemen in loud tones explain ed what had happened, Mr. Nelson patted Jonathan on the head, and called him “ a good, alert boy.” “ I hope you get those hoodlums soon,” he said to the officers, “ they were fooling around here the other day and I ordered them off the lot.” “ We’ll get them,” said one of the officers, “Where do you live, Son?” asked the other. Soon they were ringing Jonathan’s doorbell. His mother’s face turned white when she saw her youngest with the police but the men reassured her at once, “No trouble, Ma’am, and no acci dent. Your boy here just witnessed a robbery.” Jonathan’s eyes sparkled as the men explained. But Jona than’s mother was anxious. “ Is there anything more you want of my son? He’s already late for school.” “Well, yes, Ma’am, could you and he come to the station while he makes a statement and looks at some of the mug shots—sorry—pictures of some known gang members ? Then we’ll take him to school and explain to the teacher and bring you back home.” Soon they were at the police sta-
O N A COOL, sunshiny October morning, eight-year-old Jona than kissed his mother goodbye and, swinging his lunch pail as he walked along, started off for school. The only one of the five children still attending the grades, he was a bright, happy-go-lucky little fellow, with twinkling blue eyes and a merry smile. This morning there was a warm feeling in his heart because o f his mother’s quick little prayer with him at the door before she rushed him into his jacket and cap. Once he asked his friend Billy, “ Does your Mom ever pray with you?” “ Naw,” answered Billy, “ But she sure does yell at me.” Jonathan stopped in front of Billy’s house and gave their special whistle. But Billy wasn’t on the porch and he didn’t answer. Instead, an upstairs window was raised and Billy’s mother called down, “ Jona than, he can’t go to school today. He has the flu.” Jonathan waved to her and went on alone. It was seven long blocks to school if you didn’t take the short cuts. As it was no fun to make it last when you were all by yourself, Jonathan decided to cut across Mr. Nelson’s backyard. An old gentleman who was a friend to all the boys and girls in the neighborhood, Mr. Nelson lived all alone in the big green house three blocks from Jonathan’s home. Jona than knew he wouldn’t care if he cut across the lot back of his house. Sometimes he had cookies or apples for Jonathan and Billy. The only thing was that Mr. Nelson was very deaf and you really had to shout to make him understand you. This morning Jonathan didn’t see him anywhere; maybe he had the flu too. As Jonathan walked around the corner of Mr. Nelson’s house, a sight met his eyes which stopped him in his tracks. As Mr. Nelson had no garage, he always parked his car back of the house. There, surround ing the old blue Buick in which Jonathan had ridden many times,
were four big boys in black leather jackets and tight jeans. Their hair needed cutting and they were smok ing cigarettes. Right away Jonathan knew what they were: “ hoods” his older brothers called fellows like that. And Jonathan knew too what they were planning to do: to steal Mr. Nelson’s car, for they were working on the doors which Mr. Nel son had locked so carefully. Jona than’s knees began to shake. He stepped back of a big maple so he could not be seen. What should he do? There was no use ringing Mr. Nelson’s doorbell. You would have to break down the door to make him hear. “ I’ll run for the police!” Jonathan said to himself. Turning hastily, he banged his lunch pail against the tree. Two of the boys were in Mr. Nelson’s car and already had the motor running. The other two turned quickly at the sound which Jona than had made, and one of them yelled, “ Hey, there, kid!” But Jona than was running like a deer. He heard the car going up the alley so he took another short cut he knew and soon was on another street. He was more frightened than he had ever been in his life. Then sudden ly he remembered what his mother had said to him so many times, “ If you belong to Jesus, you can pray any time, anywhere, about any thing!” Well, he had given his heart to the Lord, and he was His, so very quickly Jonathan asked Him to help. Looking back, he saw nei ther the car nor the two boys who had remained on the lot. But, round ing the next corner, he saw a beauti ful sight: a police car with two offi cers in it, slowly cruising along. They saw him running and called out, “ Something wrong, Son?” Breath less, his cap awry, his cheeks fiery- red, Jonathan came up to the car and managed to get out a few words: “ He answered my prayer! You came! They took Mr. Nelson’s car!”
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