Junior King's Business MARTHA S. HOOKER, Editor Associate Professor of Christian Education, . Bioln Rible College
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B y M r s . Frank McOuat
help me find it maybe,” said Dale to himself with a little sob, “but I’d lots rather have Mother.” Laura came darting up the steps and into the house with a shout to Mother almost off her tongue when Dale said, “ Ssh!” as tho’ someone had died, “Mother isn’t here, and I don’t want to see you cry because I’m gone too; goodbye, I’m over at Bob’s.” Somehow the day passed, but it seemed more like a week. That night dinner didn’t taste right; no one seemed natural and they all tried to entertain one another. Dad was jolly, but he had a funny drawn down cor ner of his mouth, and his eyes some how looked past Dale, instead of at him, as he talked. They were almost ready for bed when Laura called down the hall, “ O Daddy, this Sunday is Mother’s Day. And no mother!” “Never mind kitten,” he called back cheerfully. “We will have a regular spree of a celebration when she gets home— two Mother’s Days in one.” In his room Dale hid his head under the covers and blinked hard, after he had prayed God to take aw fully good care of Mommie. He missed her so. It seemed like all at once the sun was shining and it was Saturday morning. What a jolly day; no school, and— “ Oh! but Mother is gone!” It seemed the sun had gone under a cloud for a minute; then Dale began to whistle,-—it didn’t mat ter what, he must whistle. No, may be he’d better pray for Grandma to get well quick. That would be best. So down on his knees he went. He prayed that he would be brave and that God would bring Mother home safe. In closing he prayed, “ Please, dear Lord, show me that You hear
just as sure as Mother does, like she’s tried to tell us, for Jesus’ sake. Amen.” Sunday morning finally came. It was nice to rush around and get ready for Sunday school, but it sure was a nuisance not to know where things were when som eone had moved them from their own place. And Dad kept his head down out of sight behind the newspaper so much Dale could never guess he was there. Once in a while he answered “ yes” or “ no” to their questions; except somehow the “ yes’s and no’s” got bad ly out of place, fastened onto wrong questions a lot. Well, everything was queer when Mother was gone, and you just couldn’t help it no matter how hard you tried. They were almost ready to go out to the garage to get in the car. They were going out the alley this morning to save time. Besides why drive around to the front walk, when Moth er wouldn’t want to get in today? Suddenly, they heard the familiar ring of the telephone. They watched Daddy lay down his hat and Bible, and start back to the dining room. He had to run, but he got to the phone alright. “Yes,” they heard him say. Then a long wait. “ Hello there, Mother,” he almost shouted. “ The time is pass ing, somehow; yes, we are all get ting on fine . . . sure, half a minute apiece . . . here, Lee, oldest first.” Big brother bashfully said he was OK and hoped Grandma was better; he laughed sort of queer, then said “ Goodbye.” Laura was next and she giggled (funny that girls giggled so easily), and wished Mommie a love ly Mother’s Day and told her that her gift was in her top dresser draw er. Then she had to stop. Dale’s turn had come. The funni-
other, I’ve got the best news for you! 0 boy, but I’m glad, I got the highest grade in the whole room in that old quiz. Mother, where are you?” Dale Norris stood in the dining room doorway, slowly becoming used to the unnatural quiet in the house. Mother was always call ing some cheery word to Dale and to Laura and even to 13-year-old big brother Lee, when anyone came home from school. But where could she be? This silence was becoming unbear able. “Mother, O Mother,” his cry went through the house, and reached out into the backyard. “Hi there, Dale, don’t be so loud; Mother is not here,” said Lee. “ Not here!” almost wailed Dale who was beginning to look more like a little boy who was lost, than the big manly fellow who had such good news for Mother. “Yes,” continued Lee, slowly coming up the back steps, “ Grandma got sick and they wanted Mom to come and take care of her; she went right after I came home for lunch—I even got to skip my exam.” Mother gone . . . the world looked so crooked and empty, and Dale felt as tho’ someone had just pulled his backbone out from where it belonged. He blinked hard; he wasn’t going to be a baby. Wasn’t it nice he was get ting a chance to get used to the aw fulness before Laura got home? She’d probably cry,— just like a girl, of course she would—but he wouldn’t. He’d get his bat and go over to Bob’s backyard and practice hitting that new ball. Sure, that was the very thing. But where was his bat? Who had hidden his sweater? And some one had taken his ball out of the um brella rack. E v e r y th in g seemed wrong. “Mother, I wish you were here—O Mother! I can. pray God to
THE KING'S BUSINESS
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