MARTHA S. HOOKER, Editor, Associate Professor of Christian Education, Biola Bible College
T I N A
T A I N S
by Frances N. Phair
said he was about crazy and it was n’t a bit good for his heart. Then Mommy A llison laid her hand on my head, closed her eyes and prayed. When she opened her eyes the funny taste was gone. I felt fine. I Was looking around the room and everything was all right. • That night I thought David would hug me to death. I was a bit stiff and sore and stayed very close to him. Next thing I knew he was talk ing with his father, crying a little bit too. Then they both knelt down and prayed and when they got up his father said, “Now, David, God can do something more wonderful for you than even giving Tina back to you.” The next day we all went over to Mommy A llis o n ’ s again and she prayed, and laid her hand on David just like she had done with me. The honest truth is that soon David was well. He took long walks with me, rode his bike, went back to school and played with the other boys just like he used to. Boy, was I glad! And he grew inches wider and high er and he’s still growing. They kept saying, “ It is a miracle.” Well, what ever that is it must be very nice. I now have a wonderful new rea son for Thanksgiving. My whole family is planning to go to Brazil soon as missionaries. Oh yes, I’ll miss them—Noble, the father is a grand person to romp with—we have won derful times when he comes home from his preaching trips. Norma, the mother is the kindest lady . . . so thoughtful of me. Mimi—the older girl is what I think they call— “perfectly charm ing” ; and little, brown-eyed Carol is “ just too sweet for anything”^—that is, when she doesn’t tease me. But it’s big David, my own master, I’ll be dreaming about as I lie in the sun and grow comfortably old. No, I really don’t want to go along. There would be too many new smells for a dog of my age. And I’m not quite sure about the cats of Brazil. Haven’t I heard that sometimes they chase the dogs? I will be with kind friends, and I’ll be fond of my new owners. But deep in my heart I’ll be loving my own family, down there in Brazil winning souls for Jesus. You see, stay ing home and being thankful is my share in the greatest work in the world.
Can a dog be thankful ? Read this story and see.
T he brakes screamed; the car stopped, and I heard a boy’s voice calling out, “Oh Daddy, what a cute puppy!” And the next minute I was safe in David’s arms and he has been my master ever since. You might call me a real Thanks giving dog. My happy life with my family began in answer to prayer . . . that’s enough to make a thankful dog of any puppy isn’t it? Now I’m pret ty old, but then I was very little with a coat of short, satiny, black hair and long, silky ears. I’m the same today only there’s more of me. Will I ever forget that wonderful day? Lost, trembling, hiding in the bushes at the roadside, something made me rim out when that car came along. Of course I love the whole Craw ford family—my family—but David is my master. They could never find my owners and David would say, “You know Daddy, how long I’ve prayed for‘a dog and God surely sent this one to me.” Then he would al most hug the breath out of my fat, little body and I would lick his hands and romp and bark to tell him how jolly I felt about belonging to him. He was only eight years old and we’ve been growing up together ever since. Now he’s a big, tall, broad- shouldered fellow, and am I proud of him! My family is what you call a Christian family. They read the Bi ble and pray together and truly love the Lord, and they are always doing things for other people. They almost make me tired sometimes, they are so busy. But it’s real nice to be use ful people; it doesn’t take more than dog sense to know that. Now, what do you think has hap pened? But I’m ahead of my story, I have another reason to tell you first why I am a little dog full of thanks giving . . . I don’t mean the turkey part either, that will come later. This was when David was thirteen
and sick, real sick. They called it rheumatic feyer, and he couldn’t rim and play with me because of his heart. He was thin and white and often in bed. Sometimes there was a dreadful feeling around like folks being sad and frightened, but not often. Somebody would sing and pray and read the Bible and a happy feel ing would chase the scared feeling away. Then one day something sad but wonderful happened to me. I know
The Crawford Family very well I shouldn’t chase the old yellow cat, but when I see him some thing just does a somersault inside of me, and away I go. Well, one day I chased him off our place and across the busy street beyond our neighbors. (Our neighbors, the Allisons, are aw fully nice people. Mommy Allison is tall and kind, and Daddy Allison is gentle and quiet, and he sure does understand dogs!) Suddenly a car came along and struck me, and what happened next I know only because I’ve heard it told so often. But at that time I was “just out of this world.” Next thing I knew David’s mother was holding me. My head was hang ing over her arm, and there was an awful funny taste in my mouth— warm and salty, and their voices seemed far away when Daddy Alli son said, “ I think she is dying,” and some one answered him, “Yes, I’m quite sure she is.” Poor David, they
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