Musing #21 - "Write One Story a Week Challenge," Story 1

Hmm. . . which card shall it be today? Read the first paragraph of the story (below) and take a guess :-). At the end of my post, I have the correct picture. Keep reading and see if your guess is right!

Think back two hundred years, to the early 1800's. Imagine a boy, no older than six years of age, who lives in a small log cabin with his older sister, Mama, and Daddy.
Because his sister is often away at school, the little boy (Jeffrey by name) is lonesome almost all the time. He wants a playmate more than anything. 


Every night, when Mama comes up to hear his nighttime prayers, his most earnest plea is: "Jesus, may another little boy move into a nearby house, so that we may laugh and play together every day?" 

And each time his mother's eyes water and she thinks, "Dear little boy! If only it was possible that we could buy him a little pig or some pet that he could call all his own - just so he'd have some sort of a playmate. But of course that is impossible at the moment. We can hardly afford the material to buy clothes for our children, much less pay to buy a pet - or its food." 
Mama then kisses Jeffrey goodnight and tucks him beneath the covers. As she begins to stand, he throws his arms about her neck and whispers, "Mama, can God do all things?" (And he asks this every night.)
"Yes, Son," Mama answers, as she does every night, "He can. He is a God of miracles, and the Bible says: 'What is impossible with man is possible with God.' Even a speck of faith - as small as just one of those mustard seeds you and I plant every spring - can move mountains into the sea."
"And He can answer my prayer?"
"My Son." Mama lays her cool hand against the child's cheek, and, kneeling, presses another kiss to the forehead that is wrinkled in intense thought. "He can, and He always does. Trust Him. It may take a while, and it may not happen in the way you expect. He may even say 'no,' or 'not now.' But, if it's in accordance with His Will, He can and will work a miracle and give you a little playmate."
  And, contented, Jeffrey returns his mother's caress, rolls over in bed, and falls into a heavy slumber.

  So, Jeffrey kept up his earnest petition. And he began not only to pray at night, but during the day, too. As he weeded flower beds, and planted radish seeds, and helped Mama with the laundry, he would offer up silent prayers within his heart. Mama's little talks every night always encouraged his praying, and it also helped his trust in his Savior to grow.
  During a cooler day in the spring, Daddy had used a spare board of wood and a length of rope and made a swing for his son. It hung from a low branch in one of the family's tall backyard trees, and Jeffrey had fallen in love with it at once. He swung in it every day. He always felt so free and high. And as he swung, he'd pray and imagine.
   Maybe, someday, my new friend shall swing from here, too, he'd think often.
  And so it passed this way every day.
  But then a day far different from all the rest arrived.
  Jeffrey had finished his chores for the day and begged of Mama, "Please, may I go out and swing?"
  Mama readily consented. Pressing a warm sugar cookie onto his palm, she kissed his cheek and bid him to be careful. Then she sent him on his way.
  Munching his cookie, Jeffrey skipped to the widest tree in his family's backyard. He gripped the rope of his swing and would've mounted the board at once if it hadn't been for the small, barely audible whimper that grabbed his attention.

  What was that? He turned in a full circle, looking about him. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he concluded, Must've been the chickens. It was a possibility. The Waltons' chickens were scattered every which way across the huge yard. So, brushing it all from his mind, Jeffrey sat upon his swing and kicked off.
  Jesus, he began, as he always did, Thank You for my swing, and for my family. If it is Your Will - 
  Another whimper erupted. This time, it lasted longer, sounded louder, and ended in a small howl.
  Jeffrey's eyes grew round, and he dug his feet into the ground to still his swing. It came from those bushes!
  He leaped from the swing, crammed what was left of his crumbly cookie into his pocket, and ran for the small group of bushes. Pushing aside the prickly branches, he peered in. "H-hello?"
  Two bright eyes - like marbles - stared back at him, and a wet nose touched his hand.
  "A doggy!" Jeffrey shrieked. He pushed the branches farther away and peered closer. "What's wrong, pup?"
  Then he saw it - the dog was caught in one of his father's traps.
  "Oh, you poor thing!" Jeffrey exclaimed. Reaching in, he stroked the dog's head. "Don't worry; I'll go get Mama. She'll know what to do."
  He pulled out his cookie and extended it toward the poor dog. "Here," he said, as the dog's warm, wet tongue swiped his palm, "you eat that while I get Mama. I bet you're hungry."
  He then sprang to his feet and ran to the house. "Mama!"

***

  It took work, but finally Mama had the animal free. Carrying him to the house, she washed away the dirt and burs, revealing a beautiful, creamy white fur hidden beneath. 

  "A beautiful thing, indeed," she said.

  "I love him," Jeffrey proclaimed, gathering the dog up in his arms. "May we keep him, Mama? May we?"

  "I don't know, dear. You'll have to wait until Daddy gets home and ask him." Mama untied her apron and smoothed back her hair. "He'll probably ask a few neighbors if they know the dog."

   Jeffrey buried his face in the shaggy fur. "I hope he doesn't have an owner," he mumbled. "Then he can stay with us forever and ever." 

  "Jeffrey, Son, you seem to forget that we simply haven't the money to support pets," Mama reminded him gently. "We hardly have enough money to support what animals we have, as well as feed you and your sister."

  "Yes, but, Mama!" And Jeffrey's head flew up, so that he was looking his mother straight in the eye. His own face glowed with happiness and a sudden realization. "Oh, Mama, what if this is Jesus's answer to my prayer? Of course, this animal is not a human boy, but he is a boy dog, and for sure will be a lot of fun."

  Mama smiled. "Maybe so, Son."

  "And," Jeffrey continued, grinning, "If he is an answer to prayer, God will surely provide a way for us to keep him."

***

  God did provide a way.

  Not more than two weeks later, Jeffrey was the proud owner of that sweet little dog. His sister, just as much a fan of the dog as her brother was, and eager to support them both, offered a piece of the ten cents she earned every week for working as an assistant for the town seamstress. Jeffrey snapped up her offer and was even able to lend a hand and sew a few buttons or mend a tear - all under his sister's expert supervision, of course. 

  Daddy and Mama were very thankful for this newest addition to the Walton farm. Jeffrey's little dog helped keep away annoying varmints like gophers and mice. He trailed Jeffrey everywhere.

  This picture was taken by a photographer later on in the year. (The little buttons have been sewn on the sweater by Jeffrey's own hand.)

THE END

Thank you, Abby, from Little Birdie Blessings for the picture that inspired this story.

A NOTE FROM AUTHOR TO READERS: Did you enjoy this story? Has Jesus preformed a similar miracle in your own life (after lots of prayer, seemingly impossible circumstances, and even a moment of, "Nope, it's not happening")? Considering all that went behind Jeffrey's new pet, what would you have named the dog?