V>T ' -m K l n C S B u s i n e s s BY MARTHA S. HOOKER
M i k e and Jenny were walking home from school. “Have you decided yet?” Jenny wanted to know. “What do you mean?” “Have you decided what you are going to give Mother for Mother’s Day?” “Oh that?” Mike swaggard a little. “Sure thing. We Cub Scouts have been working on our gifts a long time. I am making her a billfold.” “She’ll love that,” Jenny said. “ I had a hard time deciding. Our teacher had so many suggestions that I couldn’t make up my mind. I asked her to help me, but she said, ‘You must choose for yourself, Jenny. It is your Mother and your gift. Each one should choose his own gift.’ ” “What did you choose?” Mike asked. “ I’m making her a towel with ‘Mother’ worked in cross stitch. Do you think she will like it?” “ I am sure she will. Mother would love anything we give her, because she loves us.” “You know, Debbie ought to have a gift too,” Jenny said. Debbie was the baby sister Mike and Jenny waited for so long. She had auburn hair and big gray eyes, and the children adored her. “Well, I’ll make something for her to give,” Mike said. “But that wouldn’t do. My teacher said, ‘Each one must choose his own gift’.” “But Debbie is a baby. She couldn’t choose.” Jenny’s face brightened. “Then I shall ask God to help her,” she announced. Mike gasped. “You’ll do what?” “ I shall ask God to help Debbie choose her own gift.” “Do you think we ought to trouble God with such things as that?'.He’s pretty busy you know.” “Oh it’s no trouble to Him at all,” Jenny said. “He just has to say ‘Let there be’ and there will be. Jesus said, ‘If you ask anything in my name I will do it.’ He said, when we ask, to believe — and I believe.” Yes, Jenny believed all right. Mike knew that. The faith of his small sister was one of the things he loved best about her. At devotion time each night Jenny’s long prayers, in which she talked to God as though He were the next door neighbor, went straight to her brother’s heart. But he was troubled. Jenny believed now, but when Debbie turned up without a gift, would she still believe? In the days that followed he thought about it a great deal. Each night, when their audible prayers were over, Jenny lingered upon her knees a few moments longer, and Mike knew she was adding her private postscript
concerning a gift for Debbie, a petition she didn’t wish Mother to hear. On Friday Jenny brought her finished gift home from school and went to hide it. Mike already had his tucked away in one of his dresser drawers. He wandered into the kitchen where Mother was turning out a pan of freshly baked cookies. “May I go over to Cecil’s house to play?” he asked. “No, dear, there isn’t time. We are eating early tonight. Daddy has a meeting.”
There Is a Tree There is a Tree outside of heaven's window: Its beauty is not grace of leaf nor limb. For stark and stricken there, bereft of either. Alone it stands, unclothed, except for Him — Except for Christ who, by divine appointment. Laid down His life for sin that man might be Redeemed and reconciled to God . . . For ages God has looked wistfully upon that Tree; God has looked long to see if they are coming — The children who were lost, for whom He set Upon a lonely hill this rugged sign-post On that far day when earth and heaven met; Into the darkness of earth's sin and folly His eyes are searching for the feet that roam: "When I shall see them pass the Tree," He whispers, "I can be sure that they are almost home." There is a Tree outside of heaven's window. And I can see it from the earthward side: There is no tree in all earth's good green forests Like that on which God's Son was crucified. The way is long, and darkness all around me, But unto Calvary I lift my face. Assured of Home . . . "There is the Tree," I whisper Outside the window of my Father's place." —- Helen Frazee-Bower
“May I have a cooky?” “Later. It will spoil your dinner if you eat it now. Wait until you have dessert. Wash your hands, and you and Jenny set the table.” Mike sighed and started to leave. Then he turned back. “Does God always answer prayer, Mother?” he asked. “Always.” “Are you sure?” “Of course. Why do you ask?” “Well, there was that time I prayed for a bike and didn’t get it. Remember?” “Yes, I remember. But you have a bike now. You were
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THE KING'S BUSINESS
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