MOONBEAM was all alone. Everyone had left him, so he sat up and howled as loud as he could.
“Say, Bill,” exclaimed Corporal Armstrong in a cheery voice, “there’s a kid around here. The natives must have left a young one behind.”
When the poor country folk had heard that foreign soldiers were approaching, they fled in every direction, and only little Moonbeam, just three years old, was left bind. His father was dead, and his mother, with another to look after, had forgotten her firstborn and fled in the panic, leaving Moonbeam fast asleep in his bamboo cage-chair bind the farmhouse. Perhaps she hoped to return later, but she was too frightened to venture out of her present hiding place in the hills.
David Armstrong was a Christian and very fond of children, and the sight of the puckered-up face of the little Chinese boy went right to his heart. He stooped to pick him up at once. “Sonny,” he said, “you better come along with me now. That’s a brave little man.” Carrying the sobbing child along he went back to his company.
His chums were greatly amused. “What are you going to do with the baby, Corporal?” they asked.
“Why keep him, of course,” replied David. “Do you think I’d leave him to be eaten by a jackal or wild cat tonight?”
Thus it was that Moonbeam became the pet of the regiment and soon showed the greatest devotion to his foster father. His officer wanted him to turn him over to some missionaries, but David plead hard to keep him and the colonel finally gave him permission. He was getting old, his health was poor, and soon he would retire from the army. He was all alone in the world and looked forward to having the boy who had so strangely come across his path.
David chose a Bible name for his little adopted boy, calling him Moses. “I didn’t find him in an ark,” he said, “unless you call a battered bamboo chair by that name. The canal was just underneath, and he was crying to beat the band. Now he’s so contented, you’d never know him.”
On the whole Moses was a good child, and gave very little trouble. When he was just five the regiment returned home and David got his discharge. He and his quaint little son had a little home and were the greatest of friends.
The years passed, and Moses grew up into a tall slender boy. He was quiet and a good student; the other boys would often make fun of him, but he was one who desired peace at any price, and his patience and good humor were simply wonderful.
The real secret, however, lay in the fact that his foster father had taught him about the Lord Jesus and he had come to know and love Him as his Saviour.
When Moses was 15 he came home one evening to find Armstrong very ill. “Moses, dear boy,” he said, “I shall not be long with you now. All that I have is yours, and there is money enough to take you back to your homeland. A missionary friend out there will be glad to train you as a school teacher. I am happy to think of the help you will be to many of your own country people.”
Poor Moses could not answer; he felt so sad to see his dear father slipping away from him. But the end came at last, and David Armstrong went peacefully home to be with his Saviour. Moses was left alone; and yet not alone, for the Lord stood by him.
A few years later there taught in a large college in the Far East a Christian professor with a Chinese face and an English name. He was alone in one way, for he had no relatives; but still he seemed very happy, for he was always anxious to tell others of the love of God as shown out in the Lord Jesus Christ. He would often tell the story of how his foster father rescued him as a helpless baby and taught him the story of the Saviour’s love and the only way of salvation.
ML-06/25/1972