LITTLE Dora was what many would call a good girl, that is to say, she was not a wilful or disobedient child; but she had one great fault, and that was, she always thought that she knew best. But Dora had to learn that sometimes, if not always, she was not quite so wise as older people; and I will tell you how it happened.
One day Dora’s mother was taken ill; she was out in the fields a few days before, when a thunderstorm came on; poor Mrs. Lee got very wet, and it brought on such a severe cold that she had to lie in bed.
Dora was very sorry that her mother was so ill, and did her best to keep quiet, and not to hinder Mrs. Jenson, who kindly came in to help in the house until Mrs. Lee was better.
But little Dora sometimes found the long afternoons very dull; in the mornings, you know, she fed the chickens and ran to play in the fields; but in the afternoon her mother liked her to do a little needlework, for Dora was not very strong, and her father and mother did not like her to run about too much in the hot sun.
Dora disliked sewing very much, and often longed to be playing out of doors instead.
The afternoon I am speaking about, the little girl was feeling particularly lazy and tired; it was very hot, which was just the reason why she ought to have kept quiet, instead of which, Dora threw down her work and began to move restlessly about; she looked out at the fowls in the yard cackling and croaking with their dry throats, and she longed to go out with them. “Just to look at my dear little chickens,” said Dora to herself, “I am sure mother will not mind”; and so without asking her mother, as she ought to have done, she tied on her sun bonnet and ran out at the back door.
But after all Dora did not care to look at her chickens, but looked with longing eyes at the cool shady orchard. “I’m sure it cannot do me any harm just for a little while, it is so very hot indoors.” So Dora ran into the orchard, and played there amongst the rosy apples some little time. Now you know, dear children, that when we yield to one naughty thought Satan soon puts other naughty thoughts into our heads, and we always find it harder to do right then, than if at first we had done right, so we often yield again.
It was so with Dora, a merry, thoughtless girl; she soon forgot that she had no right to be out at all, and when Satan tempted her to go just a little farther and to stay out just a little longer, I am sorry to say she did not try to put away her wicked thoughts, but she did as she wanted. Leaving the orchard, she ran on to the meadow, and on again to the sea; for I forgot to tell you that where Dora lived, was close by the sea.
Away, away over the golden sands, away to her favorite retreat, a small cave under the cliffs, ran the little girl. Was it not sad that she should be so forgetful of her kind mother and father’s wishes!
Well, Dora ran into her little cave, and being very hot and tired, for she had come a long way, she sat down to count her shells; all she had gathered she kept in her cave on a high shelf, for unless there was a storm or very high tides the sea never came into Dora’s cave. For a long time the little girl played with the treasures that she had, as it were, taken from old ocean’s storehouse.
Then closing her eyes, the tired and naughty little Dora went fast asleep. When she awoke, it was a little past midnight; the sun had long since gone down, and the beautiful moon had risen to light the earth in its absence.
O how tired and cold Dora felt; for you know that even in the hottest weather you find it rather cold if you had to sleep out in a cave by the sea, and with only your thin summer dress on. Well Dora felt very cold, and very unhappy, too, when she found out where she was.
“O dear!” she exclaimed in despair, “how naughty I have been, however am I to get home?” Dora burst into tears; she was very sorry now that she saw how wrong she had been, and wondered what her poor mother and father were doing, and whether her father was looking for her.
“I must go at once,” she thought, and jumping to her feet she ran to the mouth of the cave, but started back in horror. The water had come right up to the entrance. Poor Dora, she did not know that it was the annual high tide, and was horrified to find that she could not get home.
Every moment too the little waves came lapping nearer, and still nearer, and Dora was afraid the cave would soon be full.
“O! I shall be drowned,” she cried, “and I shall never see dear mother and father again.” And then in solemn moonlight, with the fear of death before her, came the thought of God. Dora knelt down on the sands, and prayed very earnestly that God would forgive her for being so naughty and disobedient, and then asked that she might get back home safely. After a little while Dora became more happy; she still feared that the water would come up right into the cave, but she was not quite so sure that her father could not come to save her, and so she sat down and waited, and nearer and still nearer came the little waves, sleepily lapping the shore as they came.
But God who is so very great can say, “Hitherto shalt thou come and no farther, and here shall thy proud waves be stayed.” He heard and answered the prayer of the lonely little girl, and stayed the waves when they had come about half way into the cave, so that Dora remained safely and quite dry until her father came in a boat in the morning to carry his darling little girl safely back to her sorrowing and anxious mother.
They all thanked God very much that day, for the poor father and mother had been so unhappy until a man told them he had seen Dora go to the little cave on the beach. Mr. Lee went and found her, as I have told you.
ML 07/08/1917