A Little Girls Prayer

talentedbutslow · 14-06-2006, 17:36

A Little Girls Prayer

Helen Roseveare, a missionary doctor from England to Zaire Africa, told this as it happened to her in Africa.

"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.) 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 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, 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. 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 a 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"

[ Helen Roseveare ]

"Before they call, I will answer!" Isa 65:24

katex · 14-06-2006, 17:45

Sorry to be cynical TBS, but, as if !!!

talentedbutslow · 14-06-2006, 17:58

Apparently.......it IS a true story ,Kate.......

katex · 14-06-2006, 18:06

Just the belief that it came from 'Him' .. sorry, atheist here ... also she is supposedly English, but obviously American type lingo .. i.e. colored, not coloured, labor, not labour common differences.

Hope she did get the hot water bottle anyway despite.

Tinkerbelle · 14-06-2006, 20:19

True or not, it was a nice little read Tal

slinky · 14-06-2006, 20:21

I have some water bottles

they only had to ask

and i wouldn't have made them say AMEN!! just " cheers cocker " would have done

WillowTheWhisp · 14-06-2006, 22:44

Hang on a mo......

...... just exactly who was "Ruth"? Was she one of the African children or the daughter of the missionary? There seems to be some discrepancy there too.

I'm a Christian Tal but sadly I find that the internet is full of fanciful tales which only do Christianity a disservice when they are proven to be spoofs.

On the other hand I can tell you stories which I know to be true because they happened to me or to people I know personally.

Tinkerbelle · 14-06-2006, 22:49

Quote:

Originally Posted by WillowTheWhisp

On the other hand I can tell you stories which I know to be true because they happened to me or to people I know personally.

Have you/are you going to post them Willow?

WillowTheWhisp · 14-06-2006, 23:15

Well one of the best ones was when the LDS chapel was being built in Rawtenstall. Most of the work was done by the local members in those days. (late fifties/early sixties) supervised by "building missionaries" (people who knew what they were doing and were there on a voluntary basis to supervise proceedings).

The ground had all been dug and levelled and what have you ready for the foundations and they needed ready mixed concrete. They rang up local firms but non of them could supply any that day which meant the work ground to a halt. Now you have to remember that people were doing this in their spare time so Saturday was the only really good day to get all the concrete down.

So they prayed about it and gradually they started to get phone calls from concrete people asking if they still wanted the ready mix. It had started to rain in the valley and other people had begun cancelling their orders at the last minute. In the area round where they were building (near the college) it was fine. Concrete was delivered and poured. They got all the concrete they needed and got all the covers over and weighted down and just as they were leaving the site the first drops of rain fell.

OK not earth shattering or life saving but pretty dramatic at the time nontheless.

Another occasion was quite personal when an elderly friend of ours was in hospital and we'd been to visit her. We had not long been back in Accy and going to Asda to do a bit of shopping when Peter (my late husband) suddenly got the feeling we should go back to the hospital. It may seem silly but I'd learned to follow his instinct on things like that. When we got there the door to her side ward was open and she looked up with a beaming smile on her face and said "I knew someone would come!" She'd just been told they were re-scheduling her operation (a leg amputation) for that afternoon and she was naturally worried about the outcome and had prayed for someone from church to come and give her a blessing before going down to theatre.

I had a good one when I was doing some family history research and got really stuck with a place of registration which we thought was in Suffolk on account of my Grandad had always claimed his family came from Suffolk. I'd tried to find it and I'd prayed about finding it. It wasn't in any Gazeteer and the nice man at the register office couldn't understand it. He thought it was me not looking properly so he had a look in his books - it wasn't there. In a slightly exaggerated pretend huff he flung the book down on the desk and it fell open in the middle of Norfolk - King's Lynn to be precise and there was the registration place - a sub-district of King's Lynn!