A little eight-year old Mohammedan girl, who had heard about the Lord Jesus, gave her heart to Him and was eager to learn more about Him. The kind missionary explained to her about praying in the Name of the Lord Jesus, and that He heard and answered prayer.
At home, however, the child found no sympathy. When she talked about the Lord Jesus and wanted to pray, her grandfather was very angry. A proud old Mohammedan, he would have no such doings in his house, and the child was beaten and even kicked if he found her praying. But the little girl prayed on, longing for the conversion of her parents and grandparents, and sure that the Lord would find a way.
The time was one of danger and distress through the evil practices of soldiers as well es bandits, and the grandfather suffered much from one company who had taken up their abode on his premises.
One day he saw the same company returning. They were marching toward the city with the very officer at their head whom he had painful occasion to remember. What to do the grandfather did not know. He was sure it was his place they were coming.
Searching in vain for some hope of succor, the grandfather suddenly thought of the the girl. Why, of course! Did she not pray? Hastening home he found her, shook her roughly to awaken her to the seriousness of the situation, and said:
“If you ever prayed in your life, pray now! Those soldiers are corning back, I have seen them from the city wall, they will soon be here. You say God answers prayer. Go into that room and pray—pray that they may not come to our house.”
He pushed the child into an empty room. All alone, the little girl knelt down. Was she frightened, fearful, uncertain? I Her mother who was in an inner room, heard her as she poured out her heart to the Lord.
“Lord Jesus,” she said, “I am so happy, so thankful, because my grandfather has told me to pray. Always before he beat me or kicked me if I prayed; he was so angry. But now he has told me to pray. Lord Jesus, now’s Thy chance! Please show my grandfather that Thou dost answer prayer. Please don’t let those soldiers come back —don’t let them come to our home. In the Name of the Lord Jesus. Amen.”
The soldiers entered the city and came tramping down that very street. The door of the grandfather’s house was standing open —a big door into the courtyard—for he knew it would be no use to shut it. The officer in front of the band drew up, and turned his horse’s head to go in. That was the place he was making for.
Was that little prayer heard and answered? Ah, yes! something happened, perhaps the last thing one would have thought of,
Most unaccountably, the horse would not go in. No, it backed and kicked; it shied this way and that way, and nothing would make it go in! The officer beat it dug his spurs into it but all to no purpose, until at length he superstitious fears, that are never far to seek in China, overcame him, and he turned to his men and said:
“Why, this courtyard must be full of demons. We cannot see them, but the horse can. Not one of you go in there!” And he turned his horse and led them to another part of the town.
What the horse saw or feared we do, not know but we do know what Balaam’s ass saw long ago when it turned aside in the way. (Read Numbers 22). And we know it would be just as easy for the Lord to send His angel with a drawn sword today as it was then.
This was the means of the grandfather’s salvation, and you can imagine the joy of the little girl. He said with tears in his eyes:
“To think, that all this while that little granddaughter of mine was right and I was wrong! I want to learn more about the God who answers prayer like that.”
ML 03/17/1940