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“But I promised the cookies to Mrs. Johnson to help her out.” “Oh, well—if that’s the way you want to spend your time,” Maxine said bitterly. Something whispered in M i k e ’ s heart, “Don’t miss this chance.” With out hesitation, he asked: “Would it be rude of me if I asked to go along with you? That basket looks heavy— and I’d like to see this C.S.O. o f' yours.” “Why, of course!” Evelyn w a s pleased and a little startled. S h e looked at her mother who shrugged her shoulders indifferently. .. “Oh, Mike,”. Maxine wailed in dis appointment. But her eyes w e r e stormy as she faced her sister. "What about my plane models?” Jerry coaxed. “I’ll be back—if I may?” Mrs. Rea gan nodded pleasantly, and Mike took the basket and opened the door. The streetcar made' a noisy accom paniment to their voices, but Mike ignored it. “Your sister said you had ‘got reli gion,” ’ he s a i d . “W h a t did she mean?” -Evelyn’s face flushed. “Maxine is mocking and bitter. She doesn’t un derstand, and she’s hurt because I don’t take part in all the crazy things we used to do together. I didn’t ‘get religion’ as she puts it, but I did take the Lord Jesus Christ as my Saviour not many months ago—and life has taken on new meaning and joy.” j “Do you believe in prayer?” he asked swiftly. % “ Surely. Don’t you?” “I don’t know. I’ve seen men pray— you learn how, I guess, out there-— CLASSIFIED ADVERTISEMENTS .L IB R A R IE S O P RE LIG IO U S BOOKS A N D Sets purchased for cash. W rite TBaker's Book Store, 1019 W ealthy St., Grand Rapids 6, Mich. CORREC T A N D SIN G A B LE MUSIC SE T- ting- for your hymn-poem assures editorial consideration. Music composed, arranged, edited, and printed. New " booklet. Poetic Metre—Explained, 25c. Est. 1918. Raymond Iden, (K B ) Mount Vernon, Ohio. W E P A Y C ASH FOR P A R T IA L OR COM- pl^te libraries of religious books and sets. Send list. K R E G E L ’S BOOKSTORE, 525 Eastern A ve., S. E. Grand Rapids 6, Mich. C AR TO O N GO SPE L TR AC TS, 31ST M IL - lion, 1000-$1; 4000-$3. Assorted.. Samples 10c, E. A . Marshall, 753 F airview A ve., K alam a zoo, Mich. Lecturer on Bible customs. SEND YO U R B E ST N E G A T IV E FO R 8x10 Glossy enlargements, only 40c; 6x7 Glossy enlargements only 25c. B ox 583, Mt. Horeb, W is. D istributor of \ Soul-winning books, plaques, and cards. E A R N B E A U T IF U L W H IT E B IB L E O R Testam ent selling Scripture stationery, 25c packet. Samples free. Providence Press,' 1218 .Virginia, Sioux C ity 19, Iowa.
though I never did. I’ve seen miracu lous things happen.” He paused. “But I’ve seen men pray and die,” he continued grimly. “Tom „Greenwood was one of them. We called him the praying fool, and it wasn’t in fun. We loved him, even when we didn’t listen to what he said. He was assis tant to the chaplain on our ship, and the night before our big battle, he spent the whole night seeing the fel lows who sought him out—fellows who wanted to know about God for the first time in their lives. I was one of the few who felt no need of help. I had my own philosophy. Well, the next day Tom stopped a Jap bul let, and he was gone instantly. What good did prayer do him?” “ From what you say,” Evelyn an swered, “ I think your Tom . Green wood was ready for that bullet. Don’t you believe he died with a smile on his face, that he went to meet the Lord joyfully?” She went oil, purpose ly direct: “Why has this troubled you? What happened to your philosophy that you mentioned? Surely T om Greenwood was not the first one— even the first Christian—whom you saw die?” Mike threw-her a quick look. Why had he imagined her to be plain—too quiet? Her voice was vibrant, warm with urgency. * “No,” Mike told her, “Tom wasn’t the first—nor the last.” Then he thought of Bruce who was not a Chris tian. It hurt to talk about him, but he had to. “There was my buddy—the best friend a guy ever had. But in his last need, I failed him. My college- acquired philosophy failed me, then. It happened on the same beachhead where Tom died. Bruce and I had dug into a little shelter and were slug ging it out with snipers. Suddenly I heard a strangled sob, and Bruce fell against me. ‘I’m hit, Mike,’ he said, ‘hit bad.’ His voice rose desper; ately, and it has rung in my ears ever since. ‘Mike, Mike, I’m dying, and I don’t know anything about God. Tell me, Mike old man, how to meet Him.’ And I couldn’t." Donovan’s voice was rough •with emotion. “What could I say when I didn’t know anything about Him my self? I watched Bruce die, and could n’t do a thing for him. It’s haunted me night and day. I must find out about Him. Tom would have told me, but I wouldn’t listen then.” “It isn’t too late. I can tell you.” Evelyn’s words were a mixture of re strained joy and tears. “We mu s t change cars here, but there’ll be time to tell you.” As far as Mike was concerned, there was no other person save the two of them on that street comer as he lis tened to Evelyn’s eager voice e x plaining the plan of salvation. He did
not even think of her as a person just then. She was God’s answer to his need. She spoke of Christ’s death on the cross and quoted verse after verse in quick succession. “Don’t you "see how simple your part is? ‘That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.’ ” “This is it,” Mike’s heart respond ed, suddenly at rest. “ I do accept Him,” he said aloud, bowing his head, and there on the street corner, with the Thanksgiving crowd milling about, joy rose up within him. “This is the first time I’ve known what Thanksgiving was for,” he said. “I’m so glad you found out :. . Want to khow my Thanksgiving verse?” Evelyn asked softly. “ ‘For the Lord shall comfort Zion: he will comfort all h e r waste places; and he will make her wilderness like Eden, and her desert like the garden of the Lord; joy and gladness shall be found there in, thanksgiving, and the voice of melody.’ ” “ ‘Thanksgiving and the voice of melody,’ ” Mike repeated. “That’s it.” People turned to smile at the red headed Marine and his girl as they ran for a car. But' none of them' knew the real secret of the light on their faces. BIOLA FAMILY [Continued from Yage 366] Married David H. Cowles and Ruth Christian sen, Sept. 16, Modesto, Calif. David E. Dilworth, ’40, and Betty Barker, ’40, Aug. 25, Escondido, Calif. Milton Gabler, B. Th. ’40, and Grace Ethel McNaughton, Sept. 21, Wheaton, 111 . Richard Hightower, ’39, and Joyce Gilgert, ’41, Sept. 8, South Pasadena, Calif. Theodore R o t h and Evangeline Smith, Sept. 5, Hollywood, Calif. Robert Schneider and Lois Cameron, Sept. 11, South Pasadena, Calif. Born To Percy (’26) and Mrs. Crawford, a son, Dean Alan, Aug. 26, Phila., Pa. To Sam and Mrs. G r e y d a n u s (Clemie Miles, ’36), a son, James Samuel, July 15, Stockton, Calif. To John and Mrs. Norris (Olive Ter rell, ’32), a daughter, Frances Arlene, June 2, Vancouver, Wash. With the Lord Bob Deans went home to be with the Lord Sept. 28, in New York City, after a long illness. Mr. Deans had been flown home from his mission station in the Congo Beige, Africa. He leaves his w i f e , Mrs. Deans (Mary Fifield), and a daughter, Lorraine.
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