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THIS STORY WAS WRITTEN BY A MISSIONARY DOCTOR WHO WORKED IN SOUTH AFRICA. One night, I had worked hard to help a mother in the labor ward, but in spite of all I 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). We also had 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 that the baby would be wrapped in. Another went to stoke up the fire and fill a hot water bottle, it had burst (rubber disintegrates fast in tropical climates) “And it is our last how tater bottle!” she exclaimed. As in the West, it was no good crying over spilled milk, so in Central Africa, it might be considered no crying over burst water bottles. They do not grow on trees, and there are no drugstores down the forest pathways. “All right,” I said, “put the baby as near the fire as you safely can, and 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, and that 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 prayer time, one little ten-year-=old girl, Ruth, prayed with the usual blunt conciseness of our African children. “Please, GOD,” she prayed, “send us a hot water bottle today. It’ll be no good tomorrow, GOD, because the baby will be dead, so please send it this afternoon.” While I gasped inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she added, “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 veranda was a large 22-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 batch of buns for the weekend. Then, as I put my hand in again, I felt the… could it really be? I grasped 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 and give this dolly to that little girl, so she’ll know that Jesus really loves her?” “Of course,” I replied! 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 doll for an African child five months before, in answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to bring it “that afternoon”. LITTLE GIRL IN SOMALIA: Recently, and continuing until September 3rd, there has been a shoe drive for orphans in over 50 countries. These boxes are touched by hundreds of volunteers, sorting shoes by size and gender, but the boxes are not opened. Last year, there was a little girl in Somalia who received not one, but two, pairs of shoes in the same box. When she opened the box, two left shoes had been tied together. The little girl’s right leg had been amputated a few months before. A CREEK IN UNION COUNTY: A couple of years ago, a friend of mine who raises beef cattle, found herself in quite a pickle. Her husband, who works for Southern Railroad, was gone and was not due to return until the next morning. While on her morning walk, my friend found one of her cows with a broken hip, in the creek, giving birth, all in the same stroke. To make matters worse, this was all taking place about a quarter mile from her home. There was no cell phone signal in the creek bottom valley in which she lives. My friend, all 5’2” of her, struggled to move the heifer’s hindquarters out of the creek for the calf she was dropping. Quickly realizing that there was nothing she could physically do, she began to pray. “Oh, Lord, I don’t know what to do! Please help me…” Before she had time to finish her prayer, she saw her husband in his pick-up coming down the way.
“Before they call, I will answer.” Isaiah 65:24
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