Harry was always full of enthusiasm and plans. Millie tried to hide the uncertainties and fears which were now trooping into her mind. The vague apprehensions that she had been pushing away for weeks crowded into her thoughts. She and Harry had been so sure that God had called them to the wild Indian tribes in the jungles of Brazil. But what of this wee, helpless thing in her arms? What did the call to a strong young man and wife have to do with a babe unable to choose for itself? What of the jungle perils, tropical diseases, unsanitary conditions, primitive environment, violence from savage tribes, dangers of river travel? What right had they to submit any infant born in highly civilized America to such a prospect? The exciting atmosphere of kind wishes of encouraging friends, the enthusiasm of churches, and plans for travel had all been uplifting. Now there was only the lurch, rise, fall, tilt of the ship and nothing to hush the formidable troop of fears. She was one of these women endowed (fortunately or unfortunately) with a vivid imagination. Imagination can be a great asset when prospects are bright. It may be anything but an asset when a gloomy mood is the order of the day. ‘’I’ll be in the cabin with baby awhile, Harry. Come and call me for supper.” She laid Linda down and then, sitting on the hard edge of the berth, she prayed. The admiring group of Christian friends were now far behind. True enabling must come from God Himself. It was not time for fancy prayers. “Lord, I am afraid. Not so much for myself as for my baby. Have I any right to bring her to the unknown and to the prospect
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