The path of sermon
preparation takes me to numerous resources for insight and inspiration. On many
occasions I run across stories that I have read before and possibly even used
previously. Such was the case this week with this story of “a little girl’s prayer”.
It always reminds me that God is looking after our needs long before we even
have the wisdom or desire to pray. The author of this story is unknown and it
could be possible that it is a Modern Day Parable that I love to share. True or
not, there is a message within this story to bears us learning… that God cares
even before we pray. Enjoy!
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One night I
had worked hard to help a mother in the labor ward; but in spite of all we
could do she died leaving us with a tiny premature baby and a crying two-year-old
daughter. We would have difficulty keeping the baby alive, as we had no
incubator (we had no electricity to run an incubator) and no special feeding
facilities.
Although we
lived on the equator, nights were often chilly with treacherous drafts. One
student midwife went for the box we had for such babies and the cotton wool
the baby would be wrapped in. Another went to stoke up the fire and fill a
hot water bottle. She came back shortly in distress to tell me that in
filling the bottle, it had burst. Rubber perishes easily in tropical
climates.
"And
it is our last hot water bottle!" she exclaimed.
As in the
West it is no good crying over spilled milk, so in Central Africa it might be
considered no good crying over burst water bottles. They do not grow on
trees, and there are no drugstores down forest pathways.
"All
right," I said, "Put the baby as near the fire as you safely can;
sleep between the baby and the door to keep it free from drafts. Your job is
to keep the baby warm."
The
following noon, as I did most days, I went to have prayers with any of the
orphanage children who chose to gather with me. I gave the youngsters various
suggestions of things to pray about and told them about the tiny baby. I
explained our problem about keeping the baby warm enough, mentioning the hot
water bottle. The baby could so easily die if it got chills. I also told them
of the two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had died.
During the
prayer time, one ten-year-old girl, Ruth, prayed with the usual blunt conciseness
of our African children. "Please, God," she prayed, “send us a
water bottle. It'll be no good tomorrow, God, as the baby will be dead, so
please send it this afternoon." While I gasped inwardly at the audacity
of the prayer, she added by way of corollary, "And while You are about
it, would You please send a dolly for the little girl so she'll know You
really love her?"
As often
with children's prayers, I was put on the spot. Could I honestly say,
"Amen"? I just did not believe that God could do this. Oh, yes, I
know that He can do everything. The Bible says so. But there are limits,
aren't there? The only way God could answer this particular prayer would be
by sending me a parcel from the homeland. I had been in Africa for almost
four years at that time, and I had never, ever received a parcel from home.
Anyway, if anyone did send me a parcel, who would put in a hot water bottle?
I lived on the equator!
Halfway
through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses' training school, a
message was sent that there was a car at my front door. By the time I reached
home, the car had gone, but there, on the verandah, was a large twenty-two
pound parcel! I felt tears pricking my eyes. I could not open the parcel
alone, so I sent for the orphanage children. Together we pulled off the
string, carefully undoing each knot. We folded the paper, taking care not to
tear it unduly. Excitement was mounting. Some thirty or forty pairs of eyes
were focused on the large cardboard box.
From the
top, I lifted out brightly colored, knitted jerseys. Eyes sparkled as I gave
them out. Then there were the knitted bandages for the leprosy patients, and
the children looked a little bored. Then came a box of mixed raisins and
sultanas - that would make a nice batch of buns for the weekend. Then, as I
put my hand in again, I felt the... could it really be? I grasped it and
pulled it out - yes! A brand-new, rubber hot water bottle! I cried. I had not
asked God to send it; I had not truly believed that He could.
Ruth was in
the front row of the children. She rushed forward, crying out, "If God
has sent the bottle, He must have sent the dolly, too!"
Rummaging
down to the bottom of the box, she pulled out the small, beautifully dressed
dolly. Her eyes shone! She had never doubted!
Looking up
at me, she asked, "Can I go over with you, Mummy, and give this dolly to
that little girl, so she'll know that Jesus really loves her?"
That parcel
had been on the way for five whole months! Packed up by my former Sunday
school class, whose leader had heard and obeyed God's prompting to send a hot
water bottle, even to the equator. And one of the girls had put in a dolly
for an African child - five months before - in answer to the believing prayer
of a ten-year-old to bring it "that afternoon."
"Before
they call, I will answer!"
Isaiah 65:24
When you
realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody You want the
rest of your life to start as soon as possible
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