225
May 1932
T h e
K i n g ’ s
B u s i n e s s
um or K ING ’S BUSINESS . . . B y M artha S. H ooker
been sentenced to serve twenty years im prisonment for a crime. I talked to that young man, and he told me his story. He had been brought up in a Christian home, but like the kite, he craved freedom. He resented the demands which were made upon him—he didn’t want to go to Sunday- school and church; he didn’t want to know the Lord Jesus. He felt that all those things were just strings that would keep him tied down, and keep him from realizing his real freedom. So he broke away, just as the kite I told you about. He tugged and pulled, and finally the ties which held him broke, and he was left to seek his freedom. But, boys and girls, he was just as helpless as the kite. The winds o f chance blew him here and there and everywhere; he could find no resting place; and he found to his dis may that he couldn’t go higher ! You see, the kite could go higher only, as long as it was held by the cord in the strong hand o f the one who had sent it aloft. Just so long as the string held, the kite could rise. The breezes which blew against it only made it rise faster and higher into the blue of the sky ; but the moment the string broke, the same wind that kept it aloft swept it to the ground. So the young man found himself drift ing, when the cord was loosed. Instead o f rising, he sank. He wavered, and wobbled, and began to go down, down, down, just as the kite did, and soon he, too, found himself entangled in unfriendly wires. His white ness was soiled, his strength was broken, and at the last, he found himself facing a long term o f imprisonment—and all be cause, when he was a boy, he wanted to be freed from the kindly, protecting, restrain ing influences o f home and mother, o f church and God. There is a verse in the Bible which,says, “ Remember now thy Creator in thé days o f thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when, thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them.” Boys and girls, that young man in prison had forgotten the Lord’s command to re member his Creator; he had broken the ties which held him ; so the evil days came upon him, the years drew nigh, in which he would have to say, “ I have no pleasure in them.” What happened to the kite that wanted its freedom will happen to every kite which breaks loose from the cord that holds it steady. What happened to the boy who broke the ties which bound him will hap pen to every boy and girl who breaks away from the ties which keep them steady. The kite lost its freedom, for it was hopelessly entangled in the wires; the young man lost his freedom, for he was doomed to spend the best years o f his life behind prison bars. Boys and girls, it is only the freedom which comes through obedience which is worth while! Remember the fate o f the kite that wanted to be free, and o f the boy who wanted to cast off all restraints;— and “remember now thy Creator in the days o f thy youth” !
THE KITE THAT WANTED TO BE FREE B y L ouis T . T albot *
the sunshine—all discolored and bedrag gled and torn to shreds, the frame broken and disfigured. I have thought o f that kite many times since, as I have come in contact with boys and girls who have talked o f “ freedom.” How many boys there are who feel that, if they could only get away _from their mothers’ “apron strings,” out into the big, wide world, they could be something! How many o f them yearn for the liberty which they think lies beyond and far away from their homes! They are. like the kites, tug ging at the cords which hold them. I was like that when I was a boy. When they caught me smoking my first cigarette, I thought resentfully, “ Oh, if I could only get away where I could be free!” I wanted to break the cord which bound me to Sunday-school, to chufch, to mother and home. But, boys and girls, there is a greater freedom which we can all have. It is the freedom which comes from doing right, from obeying the kindly laws which keep us safe, the freedom which comes from be coming acquainted with the best Friend a boy or girl can have, the Lord Jesus Christ Himself! If you let Him into your life, and let Him hold the cords, you will have real freedom, and can rise to undreamed of heights. Once I went to visit a big state peniten tiary. There I met a young man who had
¿ y pringtime is kite-time for boys. Every boy knows what it is to feel the call o f the outdoors in the spring o f the year—and when the fresh, strong breezes come to sweep away the winter clouds, the sky seems to get a new blue ness, the sun shines more brightly than ever before, and every vacant lot has its share o f boys, playing ball and flying kites. It is about a kite that wanted to be free that I am going to tell you. Sometimes kites, like boys and girls, seem to feel a craving for freedom. On just such a spring day as I have been talking about, I found myself walking down the street in a city where I was pas tor of a church. As I strolled along, en joying the sunshine and fresh air, I passed a corner where a group o f boys was play ing. I recognized them as being members of my Sunday-school. They were flying kites. High against the blue o f the sky, the kites stood out, floating on the breezes which kept them aloft, guided by strong cords, held in eager little hands. One of the boys spied me as I stood watching them, and called out, “ Oh, Mr. Talbot, do come over here and feel how these kites pull 1” I went over to where the boys were and took the cord out of the hand o f the one who had called me. I could feel the strong pull of the kite as I held the cord. It leaped and tugged like a live thing, and do you know, boys and girls, while I was holding that string, the kit? seemed to be talking to me. What do you suppose it was saying? Why, it seemed to be beg ging for liberty—and as each fresh gust o f wind blew it from side to side, and higher and higher, it seemed to be saying, “ Oh, Mr. Talbot, why don’t you let go o f the string? You think I am high up in the sky, but if you would only let me loose, and give me freedom, I’d show you how high I could g o !” So the kite talked to me. And as it pulled and tugged and talked to me o f freedom and liberty, something happened. The cord broke! The boys gasped as they saw the broken cord fluttering in the breeze—then we all fastened our eyes on the kite. It wavered uncertainly for a mo ment, swept from side to side, then sud denly turned topsy-turvy, its tail stream ing out behind it, and came floating down, down, down—helpless to right itself. At last it was swept by the strong wind up against a telegraph wire, and there the poor kite hung by its tail—the once white and spotless linen, which had shone so in *Pastor, Church o f the Open Door, Los Angeles, Calif.
Only One Mother Hundreds of stars in the pretty sky, Hundreds o f shells on the shore together, Hundreds o f birds that go singing by, Hundreds o f bees in the sunny weather; Hundreds o f dewdrops to greet the dawn, Hundreds of lambs in the purple clover, Hundreds of butterflies on the lawn, But only ONE MOTHER the world
Made with FlippingBook Online document