By Sally Hawthorne
them would ever see twice.” “The engine’s no good to them without the rest of the parts,” Mom my remarked. “And the parts are no good to me, either,” Dick said sadly. Daddy mused, “ Remember that verse in the sixty-ninth psalm? ‘O God, thou knowest my foolishness; and my sins are not hid from thee.’ ” He looked across at Mommy. “Would n’t that be a good text for my mes sage tonight, dear?” . . . The next morning even before breakfast there was a knock on the door. “ Come in, Lucho,” Mommy said. He was white even through his brown complexion and he couldn’t meet Daddy’s eyes. “Well, what’s on your mind, Lu cho?” Daddy asked kindly. “ I didn’t sleep well last night,” he faltered. “ No? Why?” “ You said that God sees everything we do, and I . . . I know He saw me take it-—the engine.” “ Better give it back, then.” “ But I don’t have it!” “ You don’t have it? Then who does?” Daddy felt sorry for Lucho, his pants ragged at the seat and knees, jacket with holes holding the patches together. Something so perfect as the little engine would have been ir resistible to one who had never had anything. “ I didn’t mean to take it, anyway. I had it in my hand when we heard the avion. I thought I would scare Dick, make him think it was stolen; so I dropped it in my pocket. I for got it was there, and later, on my way to the river I remembered. When I put my hand in my pocket, the engine was gone.” His dark eyes pleaded with Daddy. “ I came back and looked everywhere . . .” Dick regretfully put the box full of airplane parts away. He sighed bitterly. Vacation would be over be fore a new engine could be sent from the States. It really was too bad. Birthdays come so seldom, why did it have to turn out like this? On Saturday Faith and Dick were at the gate to greet the Sunday school children who came for an afternoon of games. There were races and group games and at the end, a special treat. Mommy, knowing these were the only sweets many of the youngsters saw all
plane. As they began reading the di rections for assemblying it, Daddy was as excited as Dick. Faith giggled, “You couldn’t have thought of any thing Daddy would have enjoyed more, Mommy!” The living room took on the ap pearance of a busy workshop, with body parts, wheels, wire and tools covering the table. The next morn ing Avelardo, Lucho and Guido came over to see Dick’s birthday present. “ Look!” Dick said. “ This is what it’s going to look like when we get it made!” They admired the picture on the box. They carefully handled the propeller, wings and tail and their eyes were round when Dick showed them the tiny engine. Suddenly they heard a noise out side, faint at first but rapidly becom ing louder. Guido cried excitedly, “ Avion!” “ Sounds like an airplane, all right, “ Daddy agreed. He went out to see which direction it was headed. Dick followed, the. three boys hurrying after him. They speculated as to whether it might be the same model as Dick’s. Other people had come out into the road and were looking up; out here in the Bolivian Andes where even trains were just a name to the people, it was quite a novelty to see the giant airplanes, so far up they looked like mere specks, travel ing through the sky. “Want to help us work on it?” invited Dick, as he started back into the house. “ Can’t. We have to go for wood.” The three boys ran off across the patio, climbing the adobe wall and dropping out of sight on the other side. “Well, Dick, let’s mount this en gine,” Daddy said. “Hand it to me, please.” “ But, Daddy, where is it?” Dick was lifting things up, looking every where. “ It was right here.” His eyes looked frightened. “ Daddy! We were showing it to the boys . . .” “ And we went outdoors . . .” Lunch was a dismal affair. “ One of those boys took it,” Daddy said. “ But which one? Of course we know that often these kids are taught that it is perfectly permissible to steal from missionaries—if they don’t get caught. Still, it was a cruel thing to do. They were going to share in the fun; would have been something none of
H appy birthday to you, to Jesus be true; May God’s richest blessing abide upon you!” The candles’ glow was reflected in Dick’s eyes. They had sung for him at the breakfast table, and at lunch, and he had felt he just couldn’t wait until supper time, when the real birthday would happen. He closed his eyes and made his wish, then “Watch out, everybody, here goes!” and with that he blew all the candles out at once. Mommy looked around the big ta ble at the shining faces and that good feeling warmed her heart as she thought again. These are potential missionaries for Bolivia! She smiled at Dick as he reached for the big package and began to untie the rib bon. She could just see him about fifteen years from now, visiting the Indian villages, telling the people about Christ. “ Hurry, hurry,” chanted Yvie. “ Can’t you see we’re waiting to see what’s in it?” “Well, it’s something awfully big,” Robert said. He thought birthdays were fun, even if the presents were for somebody else. “ Oh, boy,” gasped Dick. It really was big—and it would be even big ger when it was made! A genuine airplane model. “When do we start putting it together, Daddy?” He was dumping all the parts out on the table and it looked quite complicated. Of course, Faith thought, it might be like knitting—you start with just one simple stitch and before you know it you have a sweater! He was so clever with his hands, this was something made to order for a boy like Dick. “Wonder what’s in this carton?” he said, “ probably some part . . . oh!” He looked over at Daddy, not quite believing. “ Is it . . .” “Yes, it’s an engine. With that in your plane she’ll really fly.” The miniature engine was shiny and efficient-looking, just begging to be mounted in the nose of the model
THE KING'S BUSINESS
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