January, 1942
THE K I N G ’ ft; BUS I NE S S
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Junior King's Business By MARTHA S. HOOKER Member o f Faculty, B ible Institute o f Los. Angele$r , , ,
Suddenly the child sat up straight and Mr. Scott saw a troubled look in the soft brown ‘eyes. “What is it, dear?” he asked gently. She. pointed to the picture hanging over the mantle—a picture of the Lord Jesus standing in the storm, lantern in hand, knocking at a door. “Who is that kind-looking Man, and why doesn’t some one let Him in out of the storm?” Mrs. Scott stepped quietly into the room in time to hear Sylvia Gene’s question, and a silent prayer of thank fulness for this longed-for opportunity went up to God from the hearts of both the parents. With a prayer for guidance, Mr. Scott began the story. . “That Man, Sylvia Gene, is to re mind us of the Lord Jesus, God’s Son. I’m sure you have heard some of the stories about Him.—of His kindness to little children arid grown people, of the way He made sick people well and unhappy, ones glad, And you have heard of how He died on the cross and then lived again. ' “You say you want to know what that picture means. You see, dear, this world is full of Sin, and in the Bible there is a verse, the first.part of which says, ‘For the wages of sin is death . ’ Every one has sinned, and the punishment for all our sins was death, but God loved us too much to see us die, so He sent His only Son down to earth to die for us and to receive the punishment for our sins, So, although 'the wages-of sin is death,’ yet God says also, ‘The gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.’ “This gift of God, eternal life, is for all who will open trie door of their hearts and let the Lord Jesus come in. He Wants to enter, but the door must be opened from the inside. Many, many people won’t open their hearts to Him, so there He stands, still knocking.” As Mr. Scott finished the story, the only sound in the room was the crackling of the. logs in the fireplace. Suddenly, Sylvia Gene’s brown eyes- filled with tears, and she cried, “Oh, Mommy and Daddy, that’s my heart’s door, and I’ve kept Him waiting there in the storm.” Then still gazing at the picture, she ■ said, “I won’t keep.You waiting there any longer, Lord Jesus; coinè into my heart now.”. -’ V i*.$m There were other tears now—tears of joy—as the happy parents realized the answer to their prayers. After thanking the Lord Jesus for saving her, the three of them sat in silence watching the fire, but in a few minutes Sylvia Gene’s head was rest ing heavily upon her daddy’s shoulder. Lifting the child gently in his arms, he said to his wife, "Well, she is1' really ours now, but best of all she is His.” Together they climbed the
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TWICE ADOPTED By J anet
r. W heeler , Clasping the child in her arms, Mrs. Scott said, “We love you too much to forget you, darling, and now are we ready to go home?” “Almost,” said Sylvia Gene; t h e n turning, she ran to Mrs. Marden and Miss Hamilton and gave each of them a parting hug and kiss. “Now I’m ready,” she said.:“Let’s-go home.” Taking the hands of her hew mother and daddy, Sylvia Gene went out into the sunshine of a* new 'day and a new life. ■• • • After a .busy and exciting afternoon spent exploring her new home, its gar dens, becoming acquainted with the many pets, and enjoying her f i r s t meal at home, Sylvia Gene snuggled close to her daddy as they sat to gether before the crackling fire in the fireplace. “Where’s Mommy?” asked the little girl. “She’s upstairs turning down the covers of the. little béd Where the sweetest little girl in the world is go ing to sleep tonight.” ; Sylvia Gene laughed happily as she laid her head on her new daddy’s shoulder. -
AKING HER LAST nightly rounds of the fourteen little beds in the Junior Girls’ dor mitory of the Lake View Orphanage, Miss Hamilton lingered by Sylvia Gene’s bed. For several moments, she stood motionless, lost in thought. “To morrow will be the beginning of a new and happy life for you, dear, and how we will miss you here.” As oné of the Junior Girls, eight- year-old Sylvia Gene was loved by all, and tomorrow her new mother and daddy were coming to take her to her new home. Miss Hamilton sighed' as she gazed down at the sleeping child before her. Lying there, the pale fingers of moonlight gently touching her auburn curls, Syl via Gene smiled as she slept, no doubt dreaming of the happy days to come. Miss Hamilton stooped, kissed her lightly,' and went on to her own room. *. * *' Flinging back" her covers the next morning, Sylvia Gene hopped. out of bed and raced to the open window to greet the morning sun, which was al ready making patterns of shafted gold on the floor. Then a few minutés latér as she descended the long stairs, it seemed to the happy little girl that each step said, “Today! Today!” In Miss .Hamilton’s room Sylvia Gene watched the matron packing the little suitcase, and as the Grandfather clock chimed ten-thirty, she jumped v^ith excitement. “It’s time for £hem to be here, Miss Hamilton! You don’t suppose they’ve forgotten about me, do you?” Almost as if in answer to her ques tion the telephone buzzed and Mrs. Marden, the Orphanage. Superinten dent, said, “You may bring Sylvia Gene to my office now. Miss Hamil ton.” Going down the long stairway for the last time, Sylvia Gene c l u n g tightly to Miss Hamilton’s hand. To day she was leaving this place which had been her home for a whole year. In Mrs. Marden’s office, young Mr, and Mrs. Scott watched the door ex pectantly. Suddenly it opened and they were greeted by a happy little voice, ‘‘You’ve really come! You didn’t forget me«”
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