DecemC«r, 1942
TH E K I N G ’ S BU S I NE S S
453
The Secret of the Snow
By ANNE MEREDITH
N ANCY Hamilton was stretched out on the rug in front of the fireplace, with her chin crad- i j i In l:c: upon her book. It was a new book and Very interesting. But, s t r a n g e l y enough, she did not e v e n see the words, today. In spite of the cheerful fire, Nancy shuddered. It was only midmorning, but it was quite dark outside. The heavy snow beat against the dark window pane and gusts of snow-laden wind moaned around the small house that sat alone, like a sentinel, on the top of a- hill in south- erh Colorado. “Doesn’t it ever stop snowing here?” she asked herself a little impatiently. The tiny frown between her darft eyes deepened, and she had to swallow that lump in her throat again. No one seemed to mind the snow except Nancy. Mother and Aunt Lucy were talking while their knitting needles clicked softly, Uncle Jack was catch ing up on his reading now that out side work could not be done, while Don was busy with a jig-saw puzzle. Nine-year-old Nancy and her older brother had liked this lonely ranch of Uncle Jack’s when they had first come here last spring. It had meant safety and peace to them then. The things they had seen on their hurried flight,, from their home in Frertch Indo-China where they had had to say good-bye to their Daddy because he must stay at the Mission station; the dangers met with t h r a u g h the war zones, across an ocean where enemy sub
marines and surface raiders lurked -rail these had m a d e t h i s quiet western ranch in America seem like h aven to Nancy and Don. There had been so many exciting things to do. Everything had been 1new to them. They had ridden horse- faa ck, delighting in having the re sponsibility for errands to the coun try store, and trips to the mailbox. Yes, life had been exciting while the days were sunny. But the snow! “ I hate the snow!” Nancy exclaimed suddenly and was shocked to find she had said it aloud. She saw Mother look at her quickly, a n d s h e felt ashamed. After all, they had so much to be thankful for here. Phrases she had heard the adults use in their con versation in past weeks came to her mind: “the starving children of Eu rope,” “famine in China,” etc. She had seen people who were starving,, and she knew what it meant. When the first snows came, she and Don had been excited and had raced and romped and gone for rides on an improvised sled. But when the snow continued, and the days grew short and di'mal—when it was impossible even to get v* +He mailbox on some days—Nancy had groWT a little home sick for her' sunny home across the ocean. And now this storm nad come when they had planned to go ¿a Cor tez for Christmas shopping! She and Don had had their lists ready for weekC and could hardly wait to get to the su,r°s to do their first Christ mas shopping lu America. Every day
they had thought they could go, and every day the snow had hindered. On school days the snowplow came right by their gate, but during vaca tion the snowplow hadn’t been .around once. The roads were impassable af ter a snow storm. Nancy guessed she might as well stop hoping the storm would cease. And now it was Christ mas Eve—the very last shopping day. “So you don’t like the snow?” Aunt Lucy’s soft voice asked, and she put down her knitting to look at Nancy. “No,” Nancy admitted, but she hung her head. She didn’t want to hurt Aunt Lucy, for it was her home, and of course she” would like it. “ I didn’t like it when I first came up here, either,” Aunt Lucy went on. “It s e e m e d cruel to me, cold and treacherous. But now I love it. Would you like me to tell you how I found out about the secret of the snow?” “Oh, yes,” Nancy exclaimed and set tled down to listen to Aunt Lucy’s story. • • • The next morning Nancy could hard ly wait to get into her clothes and run out of doors. The snow had ceased, and everywhere the world was white. “ It’s prettier than a Christmas card,” Nancy thought as she stood at the highest point in the yard and looked far out over the valley. Deep snow c o v e r e d everything, festooning the hundreds of Christmas trees.
and her eyes intent
Junior King's Business By MARTHA S. HOOKER Member of Faculty , Bible institute of Los Angeles
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