FOR BOYS AND G IRLS /by Leonard Eilers
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whether you have money or not. When Bob’s money was gone, he had to get a job. Being a good rider and roper, he made his way out West to the cattle country to try to find a job. Charlie Williams hired him and put him to work on the Cross Bar ranch where I met him about two years later. By that time Bob was no longer riding broncos and roping. Due to his drinking habit, he was no longer dependable, but Charlie let him stay around the place doing odd jobs. He didn’t get much money, but he didn’t care just so long as he had a place to sleep, something to eat, and some whiskey. Finally Charlie became so dis gusted with him that he told him to get off the place and stay off. But I persuaded Charlie to let him stay, and that I would sorta look after him. One day Bob sneaked away and didn’t show up for dinner. I waited until nearly midnight before I decided to go to bed. As I knelt in prayer before getting into my blanket, I felt a real burden for Bob. I prayed very defi nitely that night that God would take care of him. When morning came, I got up earlier than usual — I was sorta anxious about Bob. I did all the chores and decided that as soon as breakfast was over I’d go into Cheyenne and see if I could locate Bob. Breakfast was almost over when the telephone rang; the call was for me. Imagine my surprise when I learned that it was the Salvation Army calling and that Captain Miller was calling to tell me that they had Bob. He had spent the night with them and had asked them to tell me that he wanted to see me. When I arrived at the hall, I met Captain Miller who took me into his office. There he told me the thrilling story about what had happened to Bob. He had accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as his personal Saviour. Imagine my joy and eagerness to hear all about what had hap pened. The Captain told me that the Salvation Army was on one of the street corners the night before having their usual street meeting. After singing a few hymns, a young man brought a brief message. But before he spoke, he sang that old song, “WTIERE IS MY WANDERING BOY TONIGHT?” Bob was attracted by the song, and instead of going on to another saloon, he continued to listen to the message. Bob’s heart was really touched. He sat down on the curb with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Pretty soon the meeting was over, and Bob continued sitting on the curb. Then as the group started back to the hall, the young man came to Bob and asked him if he would like to go with them. Hardly knowing what it was all about, he agreed to go. Thus, a few minutes later he was seated in one of the front rows of the chapel and once again he heard singing and preaching. Bob sat quietly and began to think of home. The songs brought memories of childhood days when he went to Sunday School and church in the country schoolhouse. He thought of his father and of his mother and of the rest of the family. He wondered how they all were. It had been a year since he had written to them or heard from them. He was aroused out of this mood by the young man putting his arm around him and asking him to go to the altar for prayer. He knelt
W e l l , here we are again! You know, boys and girls, I think that it is nice for us to meet here around our campfire like this. I really do enjoy it. It is not only a good thing to do, but it also does good things for us. I look forward to this time with you when we talk about a story from the Bible. This time it’s about the Prodigal Son. It’s a good story and it is found in the Bible in Luke 15:11-24. You remember that it is the story of a certain young man who squandered his inheritance in a far country. That really is a sad story with a happy ending. But can you imagine any boy being foolish enough to leave home like the Prodigal Son did? I surely can’t. But do you know that there are lots of prodigal sons in the world today, young fellows who want to have their own way and who will not take advice from parents or friends. They have to learn the hard way. I remember a young fellow whose name was Bob White. I met him in Cheyenne, Wyoming while I was working for Charlie Williams at the Cross Bar Ranch. The Cross Bar was a large cattle ranch, and I worked there for six months. It was there that we cow-hands used to gather around a camp fire in the evening, and I used to play my guitar and sing some of my Western songs. Bob was one of the younger men working there. He was not a bad fellow, but he had some bad habits. The one that was really hurting him right at this time was drinking. He simply couldn’t leave drink alone. I really felt sorry for him and wanted to be his friend. At first he didn’t take to me because I refused to drink with him; he thought I was trying to be “ highbrow” when I refused to drink with him. Then he offered me a cigarette and I said, “ No, thanks, Bob, I don’t smoke either.” Strange as it may seem that hurt his feelings. However, before too long, we became close friends and he told me about himself. I was surprised to learn that he came from a good home. He was the son of a big cattle rancher, Frank White, over in the Laramie Plains country. There were several children and he was one of the older boys. For some reason, Bob became very un happy at home and felt that he could do better for him self if he were out on his own. He didn’t like to be “bossed around” as he called it. He didn’t want anyone, not even his father, telling him what to do. After many arguments, Bob finally persuaded his fa ther to give him his share of the ranch. He wanted to leave home and go out into the world and make his own way. Of course, the father felt very bad, because no father likes to see his son leave home like that. After Bob left home, he drifted around quite a bit. He went from place to place, even as far east as New York City. He had a big time spending his money. You know the Bible says that a fool and his money are soon parted. Bob was spending his money in a big way, putting on parties, drinking, gambling, and getting into all kinds of trouble. During those days it seemed to Bob that he had lots of friends. Later when his money was gone, he found that the people he thought were his friends were also gone. They really weren’t his friends, but they just hung around while he had money. Real friends don’t do that; they stay around
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