August, 1940
T H E K I N G ’ S B U S I N E S S
293
Junior King's Business By MARTHA S. HOOKER Member of Faculty , Bible Institute of Los Angeles
HOW THE SONG HELPED By B ertha H. P entney * and Grandmother hurriedly dried her hands and left the room. Louise, left alone in the kitchen, kept on drying the pretty plates one by one. Suddenly there was a crash—a sound of broken china, and Louise looked down at a dozen pieces of what had been a pink plate. How had that hap pened to slip out of her hand when she had been so careful ? What would Grandmother say? Those pink plates she had had so many, many years! Lou ise looked at the ones she had dried, five of them, and then at the sixth one on the floor, and sadly she began to pick up the pieces. The kitchen was very still. Louise could hear the ticking of the clock, and Grandmother’s voice at the telephone in the hall. All at once she had an idea.
I T WAS always a joy to Louise to visit Grandmother. Mirny things on the farm were different from what they were at home, and she looked forward to playing in the big yard, in the orchard, or by the little creek. Then at mealtime, there was the table set in the big farmhouse kitchen, with things from the garden and with fresh milk, and sometimes Grandmother b a k e d things especially for Louise. So it was a very happy little girl who jumped from Uncle Joe’s car as soon as it stopped, and ran up the path to where a gray- haired lady stood on the front steps. “I’m so glad to be here, Grandmother,’’ Louise cried, “and I am going to stay three whole days this time! Uncle Joe won’t be going back until Thursday!” And a very happy time she did have.
The garbage pail in the back yard! A pile of five plates looks almost like a pile of six, and if she slipped those broken pieces into the garbage can be- for Grandmother came back, perhaps Grandmother wouldn’t notice them un til after Louise had gone home and it would be too late to say anything. She glanced around the floor to make sure she had all the pieces picked up, and listened again. Grandmother’s voice still could be heard at the telephone, but as Louise stood there, suddenly there flashed into her mind—or her heart— a song she had learned at Sunday-school: ' “Jesus is sorry whene’er we do wrong, He wants us a blessing to be.” Perhaps there was nothing so very wrong about breaking a plate; that was
just an accident. But her heart told her it would be very wrong to hide the pieces. That would be acting a lie, just as if she had said, "I didn’t break any plate.” Grandmother would be sorry if she told a lie, or if she acted one either, but more than that, Jesus would be sorry, too. The chorus of that song said: “We’Utry to make Jesus glad, We’ll try to make Jesus glad. In all that we do, in all that we say, We’ll try to make Jesus glad.” Two big tears splashed down on the broken china, but Lou ise’s mind was made up. When Grandmother came back a minute latqr, Louise stood very straight and held out the pieces. “I’m sorry, Grand mother,” she said, “1 don’t know ’zactly how it happened, but I dropped this on the floor,” and then because her voice trembled too much, she didn’t say any thing more. “I’m sorry, too, dear, because I’ve had these plates fifty years, but after all, plates aren’t the most important things in the world. So never mind.” Louise sighed with relief, and they went on with the work. The dishes were soon done, and then Grandmother and Louise and Grandfather and Uncle Joe all went out on the wide front porch. All evening Louise was very quiet, and Grandmother
Hours of play outdoors, a picnic lunch by the creek, and stories of early days while she helped Grandmother in the house, all helped to make the days pass all too quickly. For the last evening, Grand mother prepared for supper the things she knew Louise especi ally liked, and they set the table with the best dishes, and flow ers—just like a party! After s u p p e r was over, Grandmother and Louise began to do the dishes. Louise liked to dry the dishes at Grandmother’s house, because the dishes were especially interesting. Some of them had pictures on them, and some were very old. Grand mother had told stories of some of them, like the bowl that/ Daddy ate his cereal from when he was a little boy, and the cup and saucer that Uncle Joe had bought for Grandmother’s birth day with the very first money he ever earned. Tonight they had used some plates that Lou ise had never dried before. There were six of them—pink with roses around the edge— and »Louise thought they were the prettiest plates she had ever seen. “Will you tell me the story of these plates, too, Grand mother?” she asked, as she picked up the first one. Just then the telephone rang, * Librari / Assistant. Bible Institute o f Los Angeles.
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