NUGGETS
The more the Church becomes like the world . . . the less respect the world has for the Church. * * * A Bride's Dress Should Be White I shopped in all the marts of earth, I was to be His Bride, And I would purchase garments rich So He might view with pride The one He chose. I bought good works Broidered in colors bright, And felt that He would look at me With satisfied delight. And then I heard His gentle voice, “My child, unto My sight These good works are but filthy rags; A bride’s dress should be white.” And as 1 knelt before Him, shamed, In soiled and unclean dress, He clothed me in the spotless robe Of His own righteousness! —Martha Snell Nicholson ★ * * It is better to have your bank account in heaven than to have your heaven in a bank. * * * Board or Bored After a long dry sermon, the min ister announced that there would be a brief meeting of the Board immedi ately after the benediction. Following the services, a stranger was the first to meet the minister up front. “You must have misunderstood the an nouncement,” said the minister. “I announced a meeting of the Board.” “So I heard,” replied the stranger, “and if there was anyone here more bored than I was, I’d like to meet him.” * * * The price of everything else may be up or down, but the price of success is remaining steady. * * * Wings Over Little Boys There must be special angels For watching little boys — Cherubim and seraphim Who aren’t averse to noise. Who know the thrill of sliding down Steep roofs, and climbing trees; The lure of angleworms in spring, Who don’t mind bottled bees. Cherubim and seraphim Who bring lads safely through All the mischief and the grief They somehow get into. Yes, tall, winged guardians must be
Is This Consecration? “I’ll go where you want me to go, dear Lord, Real service is what 1 desire; I’ll say what you want me to say, dear Lord — But don’t ask me to sing in the choir. I’ll say what you want me to say, dear Lord, I like to see things come to pass; But don’t ask me to teach girls and bays, dear Lord — I’d rather just stay in my class. I’ll do what you want me to do, dear Lord, I yearn for the kingdom to thrive; I’ll give you my nickels and dimes, dear Lord — But please don’t ask me to tithe. I’ll go where you want me to go, dear Lord, I’ll say what you want me to say; I’m busy just now with myself, dear Lord — I’ll help you some other day.” * * * God does not comfort us to make us comfortable, but to make us comforters. * * * Hurrah For Dad! A little girl submitted the follow ing composition on “people” to her teacher: “People are composed of girls and boys, also men and women. Boys are no good at all until they grow up and get married. Men who don’t get married are no good either. They want everything they see except soap. My Mom is a woman, and my Dad is a man. A woman is a grown up girl with children. My Dad is such a nice man that I think he must have been a girl when he was a boy.” * * * It isn't hard to make a mountain out of a molehill . . . all you have to do is add a little dirt. * * * The Three Golden Gates If you are tempted to reveal A tale someone to you has told About another, make it pass Before you speak three gates of gold. Three narrow gates. First, “Is it true?” Then, “Is it needful?” In your mind Give truthful answer, and the next Is much the narrowest, “Is it kind?” And if, to reach your lips at last, It passes through these gateways three, Then you may tell the tale, nor fear What the result of speech may be.
The Stingy Old Woman A stingy old woman was hatching some geese, And prayed again and again, “Now, Lord, I promise to give You one goose, If You will give me ten.” Well, sure enough He answered her prayer, And ere her prayings did cease, She looked one morning and there in joy She found her ten little geese. But one was crippled she sadly saw, And gave her head a quick nod, “I promised one to our Father above Thais the one I’ll give to God.” The nine lively geese all thrived and grew, But the tenth, it’s sad to say, Grew weaker and weaker and weaker until It finally passed away . . . The stingy old woman didn’t seem to mind (You’d think that she really would); But in her heart — that selfish old heart — She felt that she’d done all she should. She talked to God and here’s what she said, “I’m sorry, dear Lord, but I tried — For the goose that I gave You — well, You know That goose, I’m sorry, it died!” How many of us, I wonder, Give God “crippled geese” every day? The gifts which no one else would want, Things we’d just throw away? He wants the love which prompts our best, He’s worthy of all we can give; Don’t be like the stingy old woman, Give a “goose!’ that is going to live! —Reta Belle Lyle * * * We rise higher by the unimportant things we put under our feet.
Included in God’s plan, Else would any little boy Grow up to be a man?
—Ethel Romig Fuller
THE KING'S BUSINESS
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