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a£e going up there right now and listen to the phonograph. Would you like to come, too?” ******** The missionary lady looked into the faces of the half-dozen boys gathered on the porch of the mission, listening to the records. She noticed Dan. He looked so bright; his big black eyes sparkled as he listened to the story of Jesus. He was very thin, and she was sure he was hun gry- “Lord Jesus,” she prayed silently, “I don’t know who this little boy is,' if he has a home or not, but I’d like to have him here to live with the other boys, and to teach him the way of salvation.” When the message was over, the missionary turned and asked, “What is your name, and where do you live?” “I’m Dan Kasuwa; I don’t have any home,” he answered, “but I’d like to live with you.” Then the mis sionary knew the Lord Jesus had an swered her prayer.
-{-) AJeus A J ù C L m e . A TRUE STORY By CAROLYN LONDON T HIEF! That boy stole a sweet potato!” s o m e o n e called. “Catch him, catch him!” cried another. Quick as was the
ished? That’s more than most men would do for a useless orphan. Go away, you can’t stay here now. You’re a thief.” For several days, the little seven- year-old African boy wandered from house to house, begging the scrap ings of the pots for his food. Never was his hunger satisfied, but even more than he wanted food, he longed for someone to really love him. One day, when he was in the mar ket he saw several little African boys all dressed up in nice suits. They looked so happy and so well fed. “Who are they?” he asked some one near by. “They are orphans from the mis sion where the white people live. We
little black boy, Dan Kasuwa, he could not run fast enough to get away from the many people who were chasing him. “Wayo! Wayo!” Dan sobbed, rub bing his grimy little fist over his tear-filled eyes. “Don’t beat me any more, I won’t steal anything else.” With a rude push, the native police man turned him loose. “If I ever catch you stealing again, I’ll give you a worse beating than I have this time,” he threatened. Fingers were pointed at Dan and heads shaken, as he passed the traders in the market. Limping down the dusty, narrow road, he could hear the people calling after him, “Thief, thief!” “There, it has happened again,” Dan thought as he looked for a place to sleep. “Doesn’t anyone care if I’m hungry and cold?’.’ He cried softly for a long time. “I guess I’ll go back to my uncle’s house; maybe he will forgive me and let me eat some supper,” he finally decided. As Dan stumbled through the darkness, he was frightened by all kinds of strange noises, but as he entered his uncle’s compound, the cheery red of the cooking fires and the tantalizing odors of the eve ning meal drove away his fears. “Sallama alaikum,” he called out. “Oh, it’s you, is it? What do you want, you little thief?” Dan’s uncle was very gruff. “Didn’t I tell you to stay away from this house? Didn’t you steal some rice out of the pot before I had eaten my supper?” “Yes, Uncle, but I was hungry,” pleaded Dan. “Hungry! Why should you have been hungry; didn’t we always let you scrape the pot after we had fin- MARCH, 1947
Acts 16 :31 Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ L o u ise W o o d b w ¿ o e
Be —lieve, ontije Lord Jes-usChrist and fhouslialtbe .saved ■ ße~
W on tkelord Jes-ut Christ, and thou shJt be ^saved
This and similar choruses based on Bible verses may be secured from Miss Louise Wood bridge, 1266 Sinaloa Ave., Pasadena 7, California.
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