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I received this in a forwarded email from our Brother Trafield, I just had to share it...
This story was written by a 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 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 that
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, 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 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, "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 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 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
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 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)
Posts: 4684 | From: Southern Black Hills of South Dakota | Registered: Jun 2002
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