JUNIOR KING’S BUSINESS
4 Story | 4 Star * * 4
4 1 The 4 i o f * 4
by Jean McGregor
Ramabai Mukti Miss India M oonlight , soft and bright illu mined the whole country side. The night was quiet and peaceful except for the occasional barking of a village dog or the raucous screech of a crow, who, disturbed by the light, seemed to think that the dawn had come. There was no wind, so the leaves of the big Gul Mohor trees looked like painted bits of silver hanging from each branch. There were liz ards who had come out to enjoy the night. They darted up and down the tree trunks just as if they were playing tag. At intervals they stopped to make a queer clicking noise in the back of their throats. All of the children in the Rama bai Mukti Mission in India had been tucked in to sleep many hours ago. A shaft of soft moonlight shown through one of the front win dows of the Jasmine Family House. It traced a pattern, on the tile floor, of the two baby cribs, placed at one side of the large sleeping room. Suddenly, a baby cried. At first her cry was sleepy and muffled. Gradually it grew to insistent wails. A young girl of about twenty years stirred, trying to wake herself up. Who? What? Where am I? The questions toppled one on top of the other as she tried to gain conscious ness. “ It s ounds like Susha,” she thought. “ But it is strange for her to cry in the night. She generally sleeps right through. I must get up and see what’s the matter.” The young girl, called Tara (Star') rubbed her eyes and leaned over to turn up the kerosene lan tern. Yes, it was Susha alright and really making a terrific racket now. Tara was surprised that the other children could sleep through it. Barefoot, she walked noiselessly across the tiled floor to the baby’s crib. “ Susha,” she said qui et l y. “What’s wrong? Were you having a bad dream?”
Turning the lantern still higher, she looked down at the wriggling youngster. The trouble was easy to see. One tiny foot was caught be tween two of the crib slats. “Oh, you’re really stuck!” Tara exclaimed. “ Let’s see what I can do for you.” Carefully, she turned the little foot and slid it out onto the crib sheet again. The wailing ceased im mediately and Susha looked up, blinking back the tears. Then she reached her arms up toward Tara, wanting to be held. Tara picked her up and the baby nestled her head down into Tara’s shoulder. The baby’s hair was a mass of wet wrink- lets. She had struggled and cried so that she felt damp all over. Tara took the wet nightie off and rubbed Susha from head to foot with a fluffy towel. Then she slipped a clean, white night gown over her head. “There, Little Pumpkin,” she said. “You should be all right. Let’s try a cold drink of water and then down again for the rest of the night.” The baby settled down happily and was soon sound asleep. Tara returned to her own bed. But she did not sleep immediately. “What a r e s p o n s i b i l i t y ! ” she thought. “ All of these children, the whole fifteen of them! What would I do if I couldn’t count on the Lord for help?” Then quietly she spoke out into the darkness. “ Dear Lord, thank you that you do take care of them. Thank you for waking me so that I could help Susha.” As dawn began to break the fol lowing morning a chorus of bird song filled the air. The cuckoos kept calling to remind everyone that rain was near. A golden oriole sat in a tall Nim tree and trilled his three joyous notes over and over again. The crows and sparrows had already sung their hymns of praise and were off to find some breakfast. Tara had been up before the birds in order that she might spend some
time in quietness with God before the children demanded all of her time. Her own quiet time finished, she woke the children and gathered them around her for singing and prayer. Little Susha, aged one and one half, and Latta, just past two, clamoured for a place on her lap. The other children sat in a semi circle in front of her. During breakfast, she had to work patiently with Latta to get her to finish her cereal. When the last bite had finally gone into Latta’s mouth, Tara was off to join the children who were getting ready for school. “ Hira,” she said. “You’ve made a very nice braid on this side but the other one isn’t so good. Let me fix it.” With quick, deft movements she re-combed Hira’s left pigtail and then tied a bright red ribbon on each braid. “ Joyti, come closer. That dress looks very dirty to me. Oh, it is! Where ever did you get that black spot right in the center of the front? Off you go to change it. Put on your bright green one with the white rick-rack.” Sahansheela, one of the ’teen agers, was sweeping the front porch. “ Stop a minute!” Tara called. “ I want to talk with you.” Sahansheela stood the broom in the corner and walked to the place where Tara sat buttoning Joyti’s green dress. “ Look, I have a big job for you to do for me this morning. Do you think that you can manage it?” “What is it, Akka?” asked Sahan sheela. “ I can try.” “ It’s my turn to go with some of the other Bible Women to the village of Parfav today. I should be back just after lunch. Will you please look after Susha and Latta and then when the children come home at noon, see that they have their lunch and get back to school on time?” “ I’ll do the very best I can, Akka. But what about Sewing?”
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T H E K IN G 'S B U SIN E SS
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