ONE sweet summer’s day, little Donald and his wee sister Annie were sent by their mother down the lane and across the fields, to pay their aunt a visit. The little pair trotted off very merrily, Donald, being but seven years old, proud to have the care of Annie, who was two years younger. A pleasant time the bairns had at auntie’s house, so that, as the evening drew on, she had some difficulty in persuading them to start for home, At length they set off, but, in spite of the many injunctions from auntie to go straight back, before mother should begin to fret about them, the children loitered, playing on the road, finding many a temptation to do so in the flowering hedge bottoms.
Thus, happy and thoughtless, they did not notice that it was getting late and growing dark, until, in the fast deepening shadows, they dimly saw, in the narrow lane before them, a big horse browsing. Now the poor thing was, I daresay both tired and hungry, and had no thought beyond getting its hard-earned supper, before its weary limbs took rest; but to the little children it seemed an awful and terrible obstacle, right across their homeward path. Donald’s large brown eyes dilated in terror, as wee Annie clung tremblingly to him.
“Oh, Donald, whatever can we do?” she sobbed.
“I know what we must do, Annie,” answered Donald, after a moment’s hesitation; “we must pray about it.”
And before she could reply, he had knelt down on the road, just where they were, and, with bent head and closed eyes, was praying earnestly: “O God, make the horse go on, for Jesus’ sake! Amen.”
Little Annie had never seen anyone before take a trouble straight to God, and she stood with clasped hands and eager, bright eyes, watching what would happen. To her disappointment nothing happened beyond that the horse stopped eating, and stood perfectly still. She shrank back with renewed terror, as Donald quietly took her hand, saying, “Come, Annie, come on.”
“Oh, but, Donald, the horse isn’t gone,” she cried.
“No,” he answered cheerily, “it isn’t gone, but we have told God about it, and I expect He means to take us past safely, while it stands still.”
And so it was; the horse never stirred, while the two little children went by, in God’s tender keeping.
Thus Annie learned her first lesson in the school of faith. Have you learned yours, dear children? Do you know what it is to take trouble, fear, or care to God, and to leave it with Him, believing that He has heard, and will answer in His own blessed way? Perhaps, as with little Donald, He may not see well to remove the trial, but He will most surely, in answer to your prayer, help you to pass through it with His peace keeping your heart, He Himself leading you on safely, so that you fear not.
D. & A. C.