November, 1935
T H E K I N G ' S B U S I N E S S
413
Jun ior K ING ’S BUSINESS B y M a r t h a S. H o o k e r
A THANKSGIVING BASKET
L et ’ s fill a Thanksgiving basket,” Miss Mary Ann proposed at the very first K. Y. B. C. meeting in the falK-Si “Well—if it could be different—” Jane expressed the question in everybody’s mind, when she spoke. “ It’s no fun just to bring a can of corn from the cupboard, or a jar o f fruit your mother gives you.” “W e want to do something ourselves," chimed in all the K. Y. B. C. members. “That’s a real idea,” exclaimed Miss Mary Ann. “God has been so good to us,’’ : she continued. “ Let us make our gift a real thank offering to Him. Thanksgiving is still many weeks away, but that will give us each time to make something of our very own for the basket.” “And let’s put Scripture verses in our packages,” added Jim, the club president. “Yes, indeed, we must not forget the Scripture verses. It wouldn’t be a ‘Know Your Bible Club’ basket unless we planned to use something from God’s Word, would it?” replied Miss Mary Ann. “ I know what I’m going to make,” whispered Susie to Alpha, “but I’m not going to tell a soul:” ;- With many secrets, the planning continued during the weeks that followed. Even the boys met to gether in mysterious groups, plan ning their part o f the Thanksgiving basket. Finally, the day before Thanks giving arrived, and it was well that it did, for the secrets would not have kept much longer. The K. Y. B. C. members gathered at Miss Mary Ann’s home, and such an array o f packages as they brought! There were packages of every shape and color, carefully wrapped and tied. Miss Mary Ann had a large basket ready for the gifts. She had lined it with gold and red autumn leaves. Rogers had brought his wagon. “ I thought it might help with carrying the basket,” he explained to the teacher. “Indeed it will, Rogers. W e’ll put the basket on the wagon right away and fill it afterwards.” The excited, happy group hastened out into the yard where Rogers’ wagon stood, and they soon covered it with autumn leaves, placing the Thanksgiving basket in the center. Then came the filling o f the basket. Each member of the club described the contents of his or her package as it was placed in the basket. What fun it was to guess first and then really find out what was concealed behind the- gay tissue papers! Tom’s package was a large bulky one. “They’re sweet potatoes, and I raised them myself,” he proudly told the group. Bob brought a golden yellow pumpkin from his own garden. .It was not wrapped, and his Scripture verse had been pasted neatly on the outside of the pumpkin itself.
When all the packages had been distri buted, Rogers and his wagon with only the autumn leaves left on it led the way down the street toward the homes of the club members.: “I’m just too happy for words,”' began Marjory. “ I am, too,” agreed all the others. “Wasn’t Granny Gray just too pleased? And did you see Buddy Brown almost dance with joy on his crutches when he saw us stop at his door ?” added one of the girls. As the members went down the street to their homes ifo r their own Thanks giving, they were singing: “ It pays to serve Jesus, it pays ev’ry day, You’ll be happy each step of the way.” - M. S. H. G l : Making Mud Pies By R ichard W . L ewis * reetings , dear girls and boys, from your new-found friend who hails from the Ozark Hills of Arkansas ! How I wish it were possible to see your faces, shake your hands, go fishing or boating, enjoy a picnic with you, or at least make mud pies! •Since we are too far apart to get together and join in making mud pies, suppose we at least think to gether for a few moments about making them. If I should ask how many children who read these words ever made mud pies, doubtless every one would say, “ I have!” Perhaps no part o f play is known to chil dren generally better than that of making mud pies. I think I know children and their ways pretty well, for I have an even dozen of my own, while I have talked to multiplied thousands of girls and boys throughout the United States. Then I had seven sisters and brothers; and so far as I know, all the children with whom I have been closely associated made mud pies. I think it is interesting to watch children with soiled hands rolling, patting, pressing, squeezing the mud into pies and other shapes. That great good old man o f the old, old times, Job, said: “Thou hast made me as the clay” (Job 10:9). By these words he meant that he had no more made himself than did the clay make itself. He also meant, doubtless, that just as God owned the clay, so He owned Job. And just so God owns you, and He owns me. And just as children handle clay, so God handles us in His hands. Or, just as the potter shapes the clay into all sorts of vessels, vases, urns, crocks, jars, or jugs, so God would press us in His mighty hands o f love, to form us into shapes o f useful ness and heauty. *Bible teacher, Siloam Springs, Ark.
“Won’t this make a fine pie?” he asked the others as he held it high for all to see. Marjory brought grape jelly, some she had made herself with her big sisters’ help. Alpha brought cookies. What an abun dance there was! The Thanksgiving basket was fairly overflowing with good things. Rogers’ wagon surely proved useful, for the things that would not go into the basket were heaped about the basket on the wagop,
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Then away they all went, teacher, pupils, and wagon. What a happy group they were! “What is our first stop ?” called Rogers, and the group shouted back, “ Granny Gray’s, don’t you remember ?” You see, the names of those who were to receive a part of the Thanksgiving basket had been decided upon long ago. Dear old Granny Gray! How her face brightened up with joy as she heard the K. Y. B. C. group sing their choruses and realized that some o f the packages were for her 1 “You blessed children,” she ex claimed, as the tears crept down her wrinkled cheeks. “And if the Lord didn’t send ye at just the right timel My cup board’s empty, and tomorrow is Thanks giving.” Then Miss Mary Ann told her all about the Know Your Bible Club, of its aim and motto. “These gifts, Granny,” she said, “are real love gifts, and each one is given as an offering to the Lord Jesus and in His name.” The club members sang more choruses, and then Miss Mary Ann prayed especially for dear Granny Gray. Then the boys and girls moved on down the street, stopping at the doors o f others who, like Granny Gray, were likely to have very few good things for Thanksgiving Day.
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