CARLOS' KNIFE Little six-year-old Carlos sat on the bank of a river. It was a rather high bank and Carlos could see quite a long distance down the river. It was a bright sunny morning, and Carlos was whittling on a small stick. Whenever he could get a good shaving off of the small stick, he would throw it out into the river. Each shaving was a boat. Although it was only a small river Carlos played that it was a big one and that its rushing swirling waters would carry his shaving boats far off to the ocean. Carefully he cut an extra long shaving. There, that would sail away like a real steamship! How much he did enjoy having the little knife! Grandma had given it to him last Christmas. It was bright and shining, and had two blades. Such a knife would gladden any boy's heart. Carefully he smoothed out the long shaving, then drew back his arm and gave the shaving a big fling out into the river. Oh! oh! oh! With the smooth shaving went the shining little knife. For just an instant it was a shining bright streak, then it dropped with a splash into the muddy waters. Speechless, little Carlos watched its gleaming lines; but as it sank out of sight he realized his little knife was gone, gone down in the muddy swirling waters of the river. With a loud and bitter cry he scrambled up the bank and ran to where his father was at work. "0h! My knife, my knife! It's way out in the river," he wailed, and burying his face against his father's shoulder he sobbed heart-brokenly. His father tried to comfort him; but there was no other knife or toy for the child, nor was there a mother to soothe the little broken heart. At last his father said; "Let's pray about it." Together they knelt and asked God to comfort the boy or by some miracle let them have the knife again. When they rose from their knees the little boy said joyfully, "Oh, I'm going to have it again." The father thought of Elisha and the axe head, and said to the child, "I'11 try to find it." They returned to the place where Carlos had sat shaving the stick. There the father laid aside his coat and walked directly down the bank and out into the water. He walked out until the swirling water was almost waist deep. Then said reverently, "Iin the name of the Lord, I'11 try." Slowly he stooped over and put down his right hand, down, down, down; at last his fingers touched the bottom of the river and he took up a handful of sand; and there in the palm lay the little knife. Does not God hear and answer prayer? |
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