October, 1935
T H E K I N G ' S B U S I N E S S
377
Junior K ING ’S BUSINESS B y M a r t h a S. H o o k e r
FAITH AND BIG HATS B y T homas T itcombe *
T he cry kept going up in the midnight air: “A fe ojo o, a fe ojo o !”—“We want rainl W e want rain!” All over a large section of Africa this cry was heard. May was almost past, and there had been no rain for more than a month. The shoots, o f the yams had come through the ground, but be cause there had been no rain, all the crops were being destroyed. In great distress, the natives cried out for rain, and the witch doctors with all their bluster and noise promised they would bring rain. They took out Sango, the largest idol they had, and went out into the bush. For a week they cried, shouted, beat their drums, and blew rams’ horns
in the church. They answered, “Are we not gathered to pray for rain? We will need these hats when we go home.” They firmly believed in a living Saviour, the One who could do exceedingly above all that they ■could ask or think. James 5:17, 18 was read aloud, and all fell on their knees to pray. The church building was just four walls and an iron roof, without ceil ing. After the people had been praying for twenty min utes, they heard a noise of something dropping on the roof. Five minutes later, prayer had to stop and be re placed by cries o f rejoicing, for the rain was coming down in torrents. It continued for four days I And what did the idol-wor
to bring down the rain. If noise had been sufficient, they would have brought down the heavens. Two o f the witch doctors climbed a palm tree, thinking they could get nearer their god so that he could hear. At the end of the week, they sacrificed a cow to the heathen god, and poured the blood all over the large image. But there was still no sign o f rain. The witch doc tors said that if the white man had not been there, they could have sacrificed a girl, and then the rain would have been sent. The Mohammedans said, scornfully: “O f course you have no rain. How can idols answer? You are only pagans, but we will bring the rain. We will fast for a week and cry to our prophet, and he will send us the rain.” All day and night the missionaries could hear the Mohammedans at prayer, and at the close o f a week, the Mohammedans sacrificed a lamb. But still there was no rain! The cry went up from all: “We need rain, or we starve.” All week the missionary had been pray ing that the native Christians would realize that they could trust their heavenly Father and that they themselves would ask for a special meeting to pray for rain. On Sun day he had just finished giving a message from the Bible, when some one touched his elbow, and as he turned around, he saw the native pastor, dressed in a white cloth, with his feet bare. The African pastor said, “Is it not time for us to pray?” The missionary tested him, saying: “The pagans prayed for a week, and no rain came. The Mohammedans prayed, and they got no rain. Do you think we can get rain ?” The native replied: “White man, we are not pagans, for they have only wood and stone. It is true that the idols have ears, but hear not, eyes, but see not. It is true ^Missionary, Sudan Interior Mission.
that we used to worship the idols, but they never heard our cries. As for Mohammed, he lived, but he died, and is still dead. He cannot answer. Our Saviour, Jesus, born of a virgin, lived, died, and was buried, but He came out o f the grave, and today He lives, and waits to hear our cry, and when we cry He hears us.” When asked what one of God’s promises gave him the right to claim rain, the native Christian immediately turned to James 5:17, 18 and read: “Elias was a man sub ject to like passions as we are, and he prayed earnestly that it might not rain: and it rained not on the earth by the space of three years and six months. And he prayed again, and the heaven gave rain, and the earth brought forth her fruit.” Without another word, the missionary turned to the great congregation and an nounced that they would hold a prayer meeting the next night. It was not long before the pagans and Mohammedans heard about the prayer meeting, and they said they would soon see who had the real God. The pagans had cried for a week, and no rain came. The Mohammedans had cried and fasted for a week, and still there was no rain. They said they would now see what the Christians’ God would do. The missionary asked that no one come to the meeting who did not believe that God hears and answers prayer. Monday evening the bell rang at seven o’clock to call the people to prayer, and in about ten minutes, the missionary reached the church. There was not a cloud in the sky, and humanly speaking no rain could come. The church was so crowded that the missionary had difficulty in entering, but when he did get in, he saw that the natives had with them,the big umbrella hats they wear in the wet season. These hats are twenty-six inches across. The missionary asked the Christians why they had the hats
shiping people think? Many o f them said, “We prayed day and night for a week, and there was no rain. The Mohammedans prayed for a week, and there was no rain, but the Christians prayed to Isejumedog- bon twenty minutes and got all the rain they needed. There is only one God, and He is the Christians’ Saviour.” What a testimony 1 Heathen men and women had come to see that there is only one God and He the living Saviour o f the Christians! Let us so live that the world will say there is only one Saviour—your Saviour and mine! Beautiful Hands M ary J o was her mother’s helper. Mrs. Lee had often said she didn’t see how she could ever get along with out Mary Jo’s eager, helpful hands. The large Lee ranch was constantly a beehive of activity. There were many, many things to be done daily. One day Mary Jo came home from school with a troubled look on her face. Mother was busy as usual, but especially oil this day, for Dr. Rae, a returned mis sionary from Africa, was in their home for a few days. Mrs. Lee’s father and Dr. Rae had been college chums, and the mis sionary was a very welcome guest. “What is the matter with my little girl?” asked Mrs. Lee as she stopped her many duties to look into Mary Jo’s face. “Has something unhappy happened at school today ?” “It’s about my hands, Mother,” Mary Jo began timidly. “ Some o f the girls at school said—mine were rough—and large. Eileen’s are so small—and soft as silk. Every one says she has beautiful hands—” Before Mother could comfort her, Dr. Rae appeared in the doorway. He had heard Mary Jo’s complaint, and realizing how busy Mrs. Lee was, he called to Mary
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