1. religion and spirituality
2. christianity

AUGUST 31, 1954
Not by Sight
"
How to Keep Sin From "Taking
Bible Lesson for September 11
WE HOLD THESE TRUTHS
LIGHT
Under ordinary circumstances we
would seriously advise against a youth leaving school in order more actively to engage
in gospel work. But the incident forming the
basis of our guest editorial was so striking
that we asked President E. A. Boehm of the
Bismarck-Solomons Union Mission to share
it with our INSTRUCTOR readers. He told the
story at the recent General Conference in San
Francisco.
,ZY
Brighter in a Dark Place
By ERIC A. BOEHM
Down at Talasea on the island of New Britain in the
Bismarck-Solomons Union Mission, Asotau of Mussau and other
nationals were pioneering the work. They had not been long
in the district when they began writing mission headquarters,
pleading for helpers to answer calls coming from the nearby
Kombe Islands.
The Kombe islanders were steeped in heathenism—primitive,
ignorant, dirty, superstitious idolaters, without discipline, without decency, and without morals. Still they were groping for the
gospel light as taught by the "Seven-day" mission, and incessant
were the pleas from Asotau for workers.
Evangelist Pandahiti of the Solomon Islands visited the area
to verify the interest. But we had no men, and no means to send
them. "Will you visit the camp meetings in your homeland, and
talk to the lay people about this needy field?" we asked the
evangelist. He readily assented, and as he told his story he called
for volunteers to go to the dark Kombe Islands.
Among those who responded was a young student from the
mission school. "What has prompted you to volunteer?" we asked
him. "You are young, your schooling is not complete, you are
not married, you will be lonely down there. Are you really prepared to leave home and loved ones and cross the sea to these
heathen people?"
His reply came spontaneously. "I am so happy that the light
came to my island years ago, and that I have this light. The
light that is in me is just a little one. I want to go to a dark place
so that my little light will shine brighter."
Vol. 102, No. 35
BRIDGES
Somewhere recently we saw a
note to the effect that covered bridges in
America were slowly but gradually disappearing. We wonder whether the same thing isn't
happening to the farm horse? It used to be
that city dwellers delighted to travel to the
country, where memories of simpler days
could be whetted. On a recent trip, coast to
coast, we saw hardly a horse engaged in the
once-noble pursuit of helping in the haying.
Our cover picture by Mac Gramlich, from
Fredric Lewis, records a scene that seems
destined to disappear. The tractor makes easier work, but is less picturesque. Or perhaps
we should say less reminiscent of the old
days, just to avoid controversy with any who
may challenge our ideas of pastoral life.
ANALOGY
"As I stood wondering at the
chemistry of the process, I was struck with
the analogy between what I was seeing and
the Christian life," writes Vinston Adams in
his page 10 article. Thus is demonstrated the
fact that spiritual truth can often be reflected
from the everyday occupations of modern
man. Christ's parables from nature and society
were equally effective in His day.
DO GOODER This quote from "Be a Do
Gooder!" in MV Youth in Action, page five,
makes the article and the idea worth study:
"When the members at Aiea met for church
the following Sabbath, there was much eye
brushing and eyeglass wiping, as they checked
to see whether it was a mirage."
COMING
A story of caving the modern
way, "Underground Frontier," by J. Bernard
Wilt; and "Predictions of. Tragedy," by Geoffrey E. Games, a story with a surprise ending.
In next week's Yourifs INSTRUCTOR.
Writers' original contributions, both prose and poetry,
are always welcome and receive careful evaluation. The
material should be typewritten, double spaced, and return
postage should accompany each manuscript. Queries to
the editor on the suitability of proposed articles will receive prompt attention.
Action pictures rather than portraits are desired with
manuscripts. Black and white prints or color transparencies are usable. No pictures will be returned unless specifically requested.
August 31, 1954
THE YOUTH'S INSTRUCTOR
WALTER T. CRANDALL,
Associate Editor
Consulting Editors, E. W. DUNBAR, K. J. REYNOLDS, L. L. MOFFITT
FREDERICK LEE,
Editor
DON YOST, Assistant Editor
R. J. CHRISTIAN, Circulation Manager
Published by the Seventh-day Adventists. Printed every Tuesday by the Review and Herald Publishing Assn., at Takoma Park, Washington 12, D.C., U.S.A. Entered as second-class
matter August 14, 1903, at the post office at Washington, D.C., under the Act of Congress of March 3, 1879. Copyright, 1954, Review and Herald Publishing Assn., Washington 12, D.C.
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2
THE *fiedt:1 INSTRUCTOR
Something more than meets the eye can be in
a routine
TRANSFER OF
MEMBERSHIP
By RUTH JAYNE
E TRANSFERRED the membership of Mrs. Stevens today.
And in that routine item of
church business is hidden a
story so unique in portraying God's oversight of the honest in heart that it deserves a telling.
About two years ago, at the close of
some evangelistic meetings, the evangelist
received a card in the morning mail with
a strange request. This is what it said:
"DEAR PASTOR,
"A pen pal of mine in Oregon recommends that I secure a copy of the book
The Great Controversy. Do you know
where I can get such a book? If so, please
let me know.
"Sincerely,
"MRS. FRANCES TURNER"
Yes, we knew where she could procure
such a book. A few days later the Bible
instructor, Mrs. Rogers, traveled the
mountain roads of West Virginia in search
of the home of Mrs. Frances Turner.
After much winding and bumping she
finally found the house off the main road,
its whiteness a striking contrast to the
green trees framing it. She quickly parked
her car, and went to the door. Her knock
was answered by a lovely woman. She was
clean and neat, and so was the small
cottage.
"Good morning. Are you Mrs. Turner?
I am Mrs. Rogers, and I have come in
answer to this card you sent to, our pastor."
"Yes, I'm Mrs. Turner. Won't you
come in? I wrote that card and have been
hoping I would receive a reply."
Mrs. Rogers entered the home, and was
made comfortable there. She learned that
Mrs. Turner lived here with only her
three boys, George and John, away at
school for the day, and four-year-old
Wade, who was an invalid confined mostly
to his crib. After they had chatted awhile
and become acquainted, Mrs. Rogers
AUGUST 31, 1954
asked, "Tell me, what prompted you to
write to this address for the book The
Great Controversy?"
"It's a long story, but I'll tell you about
it if you have the time. One day in my
loneliness I found the name of a Mrs.
Stevens in a farm or gardening journal
asking for a pen pal. From the first letter
I knew I had found a good Christian
friend. Her letters were always interesting, and I received strength from them.
She had found God, and loved Him, and
her love and faith in Him were transmitted through her correspondence. You
can see what a joy her letters were to me
here as I tried to mother this family alone.
We wrote for a few years. In that time I
felt I really knew her and was happy to
hear about her Christian home, for she
had a husband who also loved the Lord.
"Occasionally she mentioned things in
her letters that I had not heard of before
in the churches I had attended. When I
would ask her a question about different
topics, she would refer me to my Bible,
so that I was already reading it more.
"Then one day I received a letter bearing the familiar postmark, but the handwriting was not familiar. When I opened
it I found the letter had been written by
Mr. Stevens, the husband of my pen pal.
It bore a sad message. My friend had
passed away.
"Naturally I wanted to know more details, so I answered the letter, expressing
my sympathy. Not only that, but her
letters directing me to Bible passages had
aroused many questions in my mind about
her belief, and I wanted the answers. She
had told me about the soon coming of
Jesus. I believed it, but where could I
read about it? She had mentioned that we
could see signs all around us of Christ's
soon coming. What signs were we to look
for? She had talked about a Sabbath and
keeping the commandments, and I
noticed that she seemed to go to church
regularly. There were lots of things I
wanted to know, so I wrote a long letter,
and hoped that Mr. Stevens would answer.
"He was very, very kind. He wrote
that his wife had died suddenly, and that
he would be glad to explain anything he
could. Our correspondence continued, and
he tried to help me as much as he could.
His work was landscape gardening, and
at times he would be too busy to answer
too many questions. Then one day he
wrote me a nice letter, and it was this
paragraph that prompted me to write
requesting the book:
Then one day I received a letter bearing the
familiar postmark, but not the same handwriting.
3
" 'I feel that I am not helping you find
the answers to your questions as completely as I should. I also feel you would
be better satisfied if you could sit down
and read these things. Then, as you read,
feel free to write about any questions you
may have. In the meantime, if you will
try to secure the book The Great Controversy, I know it will help you a lot. If
there is a Seventh-day Adventist church
near you, the pastor can probably help
you secure such a book.'
"His letters were always interesting.
He mentioned many times that he liked
writing to me, because he remembered
how his wife had always looked forward
to my letters, and he hoped that they
would continue a little while longer. I
must admit I was enjoying his letters and
was just as anxious as he was to continue
this correspondence.
"Meanwhile I followed the church
advertisements on the weekend in the
newspaper. One particular sermon topic attracted my attention, and I thought perhaps this church and the minister pictured
in the advertisement could help me find
the book. I sent the card you have in your
hand."
Mrs. Rogers, who had listened to this
unusual story, said, "You've certainly had
an interesting experience, and I'm so glad
you sent the card. I have brought the
book you requested and want to leave it
with you."
Then, with a promise to come back
soon again, she left. She had found a
person in distress, not only desiring spiritual help, but needing other help too, for
this woman lived here alone with the
three small boys. The Bible instructor
determined to bring other help.
Mrs. Turner needed wood for her cookstove. Wade, the littlest one, needed
special foods, which cost extra money.
The men in the church gladly donated
their time to cut wood, and they came
back periodically during the winter to
keep her supplied. Different ones in the
church provided medicine and vitamins
for the invalid boy. Even a special examination by a doctor was arranged. The
welfare society of the church brought in
food, particularly around the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays. These
things were not done all at once, but little
by little as the church saw the family's
worthiness.
Because of Mrs. Turner's interest,
Bible studies were begun in the home.
Mrs. Rogers looked forward to the studies,
for her student was so eager to learn.
And Wade learned to look forward to the
visits too, for there was always a special
treat for him, perhaps some oranges, or
some other item of food he liked, or perhaps a little toy to keep him occupied.
The church members visited the Turner
home too, and tried to help from time to
time. Mrs. Turner attended church right
from the first. The things she heard there
answered many of her questions.
4
brought them from week to week, and
they enjoyed Sabbath school and church.
Then came a happy Sabbath when Mrs.
Turner was baptized.
The year seemed to pass quickly. There
had been so much to learn, so many new
friends to meet at the church. One day
Mrs. Turner received a letter. She had
been corresponding with John Stevens
during this period, and from time to time
he had told them of his work and of his
plans. But this letter was the one that
changed their lives:
"DEAR FRANCES,
"I have been looking forward to the
day when I could write this to you. My
plans at first had been to come East and
get you and the boys. But I have thought
how nice it would be if you would come
out
here alone, perhaps see the home I
Ne0101041 44,14
have here for you and the boys, and then
if you feel that you could be happy here,
By Olive C. Leary
we could be married and then travel back
Song that flows from a golden throat together to pick up the boys. Do you
think you could work out something
And sunlight-painted breast,
like that?
"Let me know what you think of my
Kindles joy with dawn-clear note
plans, and whether you can get someone
to care for the boys for the weeks you
That gives the day new zest.
would be gone."
Well, it was something to consider, but
it seemed a sensible plan. After she had
prayed about it, Mrs. Turner decided that
the Lord had led her this far and she felt
dente He had provided for her beyond He was still leading. Yes, she would do it,
her hopes. As her correspondence with if she could get a good Christian woman
Mr. Stevens continued, it seemed that to stay with the boys. And with the help
not only was he interested in her spiritual of Mrs. Rogers they found Catherine
welfare, but he wanted to become better Amos. It is not easy for a mother to make
acquainted with her personally. He wrote a decision to leave three little boys who
that he would like to take a trip East need her, but Mrs. Turner knew her
during his vacation and visit her.
family was in good hands.
This made Mrs. Turner happy, and
She was gone about six weeks, and
gave her something to look forward to. then one day a car again drove into the
When this Christian man arrived he Turner yard, and as the boys looked out
brought joy to the whole family. He the window they saw their mother in the
knew how to play with the boys. He front seat, and Mr. Stevens with her. After
seemed to like Wade so much. Mrs. the happy greetings were over they were
Turner liked this friend who had helped introduced to their new "Daddy." He
her find Jesus and His church. She liked had kept his word to come back for them
his kind ways.
all, to take them to the home he had preThe visit passed quickly, and he had pared for them. It wasn't many days beto return to Oregon. He was happy with fore all arrangements were completed to
the family he had found. It pleased him leave West Virginia, and the little family
to see their interest in the church too. He packed their possessions, and off they
could see how much they had learned and went.
We have received many letters from
how God was leading them.
Frances Turner was reluctant to see her. One of the first letters said, "We are
the time come for John Stevens to leave, happy out here, and are all well as usual.
for she had learned to like him. He had We like our new husband and daddy
mentioned several times that he had a very much too. He is so kind and conspecial request to make, and so one day siderate. Little Wade is his pride and
joy. In fact, all the boys take a delight in
he told them he would like to come back
for them, and make a home for all of being with him. Oh, yes, Wade goes to
them. He told them his business would kindergarten for handicapped children. A
demand his attention for a year, and since neighbor has a girl in school with Wade,
it was a long way to the East from Oregon, and she takes him along and brings him
it would be a year until he could come home at noon. I must close now and will
back for them. In the meantime he said write again soon, and tell you more about
our home."
he would get things ready.
That's how we came to transfer Mrs.
After he left, the little family continued
learning the lessons that Mrs. Rogers Stevens' membership today!
Several months passed, and she was still
corresponding with Mr. Stevens. When
he heard that she was attending the Seventh-day Adventist church he was glad.
He wrote then and told her that this was
the church to which he belonged. He had
hoped that she would find this church and
make it the church of her choice. She had
not fully made her decision yet. She was
still studying.
God had been good to her. He had
brought peace into her heart. Not only
was God unfolding to her His beautiful
story of salvation, but in His divine provi-
THE
Z106Lrk
INSTRUCTOR
Be a Do Gooder!
By J. F. Knipschild, Jr.
What's a Do Gooder?
Well, to begin with, a Do Gooder
knows the fun way of doing a lot of constructive things at once. He demonstrates
the practical side of Christianity in the
Missionary Volunteer way of life.
Does it work, and how does it work?
We here in Hawaii know it works. It's
been in vogue since the beginning of 1954,
so here's how Hawaii's MV's do it:
On the islands of Oahu (where Honolulu is situated), Kauai, Molokai, Maui,
and Hawaii, the MV Societies are organized into MV Federations, whose officers
are nominated by the MV Society officers
and elected at the first MV Federation
meeting in the year. Federation meetings
are held every six weeks on a rotation
basis around the various churches.
When a federated MV officer spots something that would constitute a good federation project, such as repairing a church
school building, refinishing the floors or
pews of a church, cleaning and fixing up
the grounds of physically handicapped
people, or some painting job that hasn't
been done because of lack of funds—all
this information is passed on to the federation officers and conference MV superintendent. A federated officers' meeting is
called.
We check on our finances (all federated MV meeting offerings go into Do
Gooders' Fund, held in trust by the conference treasury department till the money
is needed), then consider the project requested, plan with the local pastor of the
district involved, set a date (preferably a
Sunday morning when fewer folks are
working), and notify all MV Societies to
converge on the project designated with
implements necessary to do the job. The
church involved in the project is not
usually notified as to what is happening.
When the day arrives, all the youth are
directed into the part of the project where
they best fit. We pray, then away we go—
whizbang and it's done! Before any of
the local beneficiaries know what has
happened we're gone. Sometimes we plan
a picnic lunch in the afternoon, with
games and nature-lore excursions.
Take, for instance, our last Do Gooders'
project. The picture tells the story.
But let's go back to the beginning a bit.
During World War II there was stationed
at Pearl Harbor a sailor whose name
everyone seems to have forgotten. One
thing is sure, he loved the Lord, because
AUGUST 31, 1954
he would take leave of the base every
once in a while and look for junior boys
in the small town of Aiea nearby. He
would go for walks with these boys
through the cane fields, usually ending
up by the local water reservoir. There he
would conduct a little Bible class, telling
them stories of the Bible, at the same time
teaching them songs.
One of the lads became deeply impressed. Shortly after, the sailor was
transferred, so this lad organized, with
his junior-age friends, a Bible-study class
in a little cubbyhole cut out of dirt under
his house. Some time later, George
Kiyabu, now pastor on the island of
Kauai, was providentially led to this little
Bible club.
As a result of the contacts made, a
church composed mostly of youth was
organized, and a house of worship built
in 1947. The lad who carried on the inspiration of that sailor is Kenneth Kakazu,
who graduated this year from Pacific
Union College.
Since the time of building, because of
lack of funds, the members were never
able to paint their sanctuary. Knowing
of their loyalty and active promotion of
our denominational activities in every line,
with an ambitious MV Society in missionary lines as well as an A-1 Pathfinder
Club, the Do Gooders decided it was
about time to do the job of painting.
Recently from all around Oahu the
Do Gooders converged, and between 8
and 12 A.M. the job was done. Needless
to say, when the members at Aiea met
for church the following Sabbath, there
was much eye brushing and eyeglass wiping, as they checked to see whether it was
a mirage. They also wiped away the tears
out of deep appreciation. For some strange
reason, as they sang "Praise God From
Whom All Blessings Flow" that Sabbath,
there was a depth and richness of quality
that bespoke the sincere thankfulness of
being a Seventh-day Adventist.
Of course, nothing need be said as to
how such projects affect the morale of our
Hawaii MV's!
Forty Master Guides Invested
at Campion
By Lee Carter
When the Pathfinder work was first
introduced into the Colorado Conference
four years ago, the young people at
Campion Academy felt as though they
were missing out on something. Pathfinders kept telling about the interesting times
they had on their overnight camping trips
and with other activities. Even though
most of the academy students were too old
to be regular Pathfinder members, they
wanted to be able to enjoy the same thrills
the junior youth were experiencing in
their club activities.
As a result an organization of senior
youth at Campion Academy was formed,
later to become known as the Pathfinder
Guides. Under the leadership of Mrs.
Nesmith and Mr. Specht, and with the
assistance of Mr. Nesmith and Mrs,
Specht, the Pathfinder Guide work has
really grown at Campion Academy. Many
have been the thrilling weekend excursions high into the Rockies for the members of this new club.
The climax came Sabbath, May 1, when
forty of their members were invested as
J. F. KNIPSCHILD, JR.
There was much surprise when the Aiea (Hawaii) church members came on Sabbath morning and
saw what Adventist youth had done "behind their backs." Here are the Do Gooders hard at work.
5
LIE CART I..0
Campion Academy (Colorado) has been trying something new—an organization known as Pathfinder Guides. Forty of the group are now Master Guides.
Master Guides, and more than 450 MV
Honor certificates were handed out.
Share Your Faith by Living
By Dorothy Mitchell
This is a simple story of "Share Your
Faith by Living." Cynthia Varner was introduced to a group of Seventh-day Adventist young people at one of our colleges. As she associated with her
new-found friends she began to feel that
she was one of the group. They had such
a pleasant time, and were all so friendly.
The good times she was now enjoying
were strangely but pleasantly different
from the good times she was used to
having.
When the young people invited her to
attend their church, she gladly accepted.
It seemed strange to go on Saturday, but
she had to admit that she enjoyed it, and
everyone was so sincere and friendly.
But Cynthia was sure that the Adventists were mixed up on their interpretation
of the Bible. One evening when she and
a girl friend from her church were comparing the differences between their beliefs
and those of her new Adventist friends,
she was surprised because she could not
find certain texts she felt sure were in the
Bible. When she asked her minister where
these texts could be found, she was quite
disappointed because he was unable to tell
her. He dismissed her with a rather curt
statement that "we observe Sunday in
honor of the resurrection of Christ."
"Now let us go to our minister," suggested one of her Adventist friends, and
they did. Upon arrival at Ralph Carter's
home they received a cordial welcome.
He seemed at ease, and as they asked questions he gave logical answers, reading
always from the Bible. Pastor Carter was
a Bible teacher in one of our colleges.
One day Cynthia told her friends of her
plans to move to Denver. Colorado. They
hated to see her leave, just at the time
when she was becoming interested in the
church and its teachings. They urged her
to go to one of the Adventist churches in
Denver, and become acquainted with the
Adventist youth of that city and their
pastor.
As Cynthia for the first time met J. L.
Dittberner, pastor of the Denver Central
church, she was pleased to find that he was
just as friendly and pleasant as was Pastor
Carter in Lincoln, Nebraska. He suggested that she might be interested in continuing her Bible studies. He told her of
the Bible instructor in Denver, who would
be happy to come to her home and study
with her on the various Bible topics in
which she was interested.
Not many months had passed until one
beautiful Sabbath day, as Cynthia was
watching a baptismal service in the Denver Central church, the thought struck
het that she too should be baptized. At
the close of that service the pastor invited
all who would like to join a new baptismal
class to come forward. She responded, and
on May 15 stepped into that same baptistry, there to consecrate her life completely to the cause of God, a trophy of
the youth who first shared their faith by
living.
4
Youth-led Junior Camp
By Desmond B. Hills
DOROTHY MITCHELL
Cynthia Variter, baptized not long ago by J. L. Dittberner, pastor of the Denver Central church,
is a church member now because a group of Adventist young people knew how to be friendly.
6
A week is not generally an accepted
time for most committees to organize such
large-scale activities as a youth camp. But 4
just seven days after the camp committee
was elected almost seventy youth were
comfortably accommodated at our Avondale MV training camp on the shores of
Lake Macquarie, in Australia. The committee members were all active in the
Master Guide Society at the Australasian
Missionary College.
Apart from the direction given by R. B.
Watts and W. 0. Broad, the responsibilities for the three days rested on the
To page 23
THE *data INSTRUCTOR
S
We Take to the Road
By MABEL
C.
PARSONS
PART TWO
HEN we stopped at Chinguar
we thought we would be on
our way very early in the morning. We had ordered cabbages,
carrots, turnips, and peas to be ready, so
that we could pick them up. The mission
folks insisted that we stay another day,
but we did not feel that we could, so after
breakfast we left as soon as we could do
so graciously.
But first we went next door for the
vegetables we had ord,-red. We bought
about thirty pounds of turnips, five more
cabbages, some eggplant, some lovely carrots, and some peas. In the meantime I
had a look at the garden. What lovely
asters! One would never dream that behind those high stones and brick walls
lurked such heavenly beauty. With a
promise of some of the seed when we
should return, and an additional promise
of more cypress trees to plant in front of
the pillars holding up the veranda roof
of our new home, we said good-by and
went on our way.
After driving across the flats for a
while where grass waved to us from both
sides of the road, we came to the bridge
that had almost let us down into the river
the last time we passed over it in September of 1950. The bridge had never been
finished. A retaining wall and two pillars
had been built, upon which the wooden
structure had been placed. The lengthwise
beams and those crossing these had been
laid, but there was only a two-plank-wide
runway nailed to these crossbeams, which
gave enough space for the wheels of a car
to cross, while those aboard could look
down at the frothing, foaming stream
many feet below. One of the planks was
curved on the bottom side, and the weight
of our car split it, or finished splitting it,
letting the front wheel slip off the runway. What saved us was the fact that the
wheel rested on the pillar and not in the
space just one turn of the wheel beyond!
Thanks to good brakes, we stopped on
the pillar.
Then our problem was in getting out
of the predicament. We could not go
ahead, and behind we had no way of
AUGUST 31, 1954
escape. We were carrying some lumber
in the bottom of our .car, and had to offload to take the lumber out. 'We three
women passengers pulled the car backward by means of a rope, while the three
men pushed from in front, and gradually
worked the back part of the car onto the
planks we had laid down, and then on to
the solid road. We drove it across the
stream empty, and then carried the baggage over bit by bit. It was rather precarious even to walk across the bridge,
and doubly so as our ears caught the everconstant dashing of the water, across the
stones. But we had to pretend we were
walking across a solid bridge.
This time we crossed the river over a
detour and temporary bridge. We were
lower than either the road or the bridge,
so we had a good view of the profile of
the bridge that had almost hurled us to
a hard river bed below. Just as we were
coming out of the detour we shifted into
high. The clutch rubbed against rubber,
and we interpreted the resulting little
squeak as "So what!" Sometimes along
the way it would say "So what?" with a
question mark in its voice. That little
squeak encouraged us all along the way
with its "So what!"
Once as we were driving along, a dog
broke away from his master and came
charging toward us at full speed. As he
came closer he evidently saw that we were
bigger than he, and let us go on our way
peaceably. We passed road gangs made up
of men and women with hoes, who were
cleaning the grass off the roadways. It
was just about the end of the rains, so in
thickly populated areas natives were being
recruited for this work. To the rear of
one of those gangs a mother was running,
in order to catch up to the others, her
child bouncing around on her back. When
we had come up to them there was a
deafening cheer for us, the natives showing their even, white teeth through their
friendly grins.
We always began tooting our horn far
down the road, because the people, had
a hard time making up their minds on
which side of the highway they wanted
to wait for our passing.
Driving on, we passed a car occupied
by three young white men suffering from
the chronic Angola malady! They were
out of gas! They had sent their African
helper into town for a few liters of
precious fluid while they sat waiting for
him to return. We gave them a little gas
from our store and drove on into town
ahead of them. Just as we arrived at the
filling station—a pump set on a portable
cart beside a drum of gasoline—the native
boy with a demijohn arrived.
Vre told him in Umbundu that his boss
had just now come into town on the next
street,'but he did not seem to understand.
PHOTO, COURTESY OF THE AUTHOR
As he takes care of a long line of patients in Angola, Africa, Dr. Parsons examines a small boy.
7
Neither could the filling-station attendant
seem to understand that there was no
necessity of filling the demijohn, because
its owner would soon arrive to have his
tank filled. Just then the young man
walked up, and then both native and
white man were able to understand. We
filled up our tank and the small drum out
of which we had taken gas to help our
friends in need, and again were on our
way.
The roads were very bumpy. There
were many pole culverts that had sagged
down, giving us terrible jolts. This sort
of road was interspersed with patches of
sandy stretches that required rapid action
in shifting. 1f we had stopped in one of
those sand strips, nothing short of a
great deal of shoulder-to-the-wheel effort
would have taken us out. But more likely
we would have had to go into the woods
on either side of the road, to cut down
small shrubs with the ax that is part of
the car tool kit, and put them under the
wheels to give the tires traction.
The grass was high and constantly
swished against the windshield, making
us blink and duck unconsciously. We
crossed and recrossed the railroad track
time after time, but the monotony of the
bumps and sand stretches kept up all the
rest of the day. Our cheerful "So what!"
contributed to our good nature whenever
we had to shift. It sounded often, because
we were constantly having to slow down
almost to a stop to avoid breaking a
spring.
When we got hungry, at four that afternoon, we chose a site for lunch that we
had visited before—the Quemba Falls.
We parked our car, and then walked
down the tottering steps to the machine
house below. This is a magnificent falls,
and a portion of its power is used to run
the turbines that generate electricity to
run the sisal-extracting machines. We
had driven through acres and acres of sisal
growing in straight rows. After eating
lunch and taking pictures of the falls
we again pursued our journey.
It was ten at night when we arrived at
Vila Luso. Almost everyone was in bed.
The gas vendor had been away visiting,
but came home just as we arrived. After
buying gas we turned our car toward Luz
Mission, another hundred miles or so
beyond.
The roads were duplicates of those we
had passed over previously. There is much
trucking over them—enough to create
many bumps. We crossed the first river
on a detour bridge that had a curve right
74de
Deeedeoad
By
8
UT think of what you could
have done with that much
money!—finish high school
and even go on to college,"
spoke the president of a large business
firm when a lost sum of money had been
returned to him. "No one would ever
have known that you had it."
"I would," the boy repeated. "I live
with an honest fellow, not with a thief!"
Paul, in admonishing his new converts
who had so lately lived in the pleasures
and vices of that great city of Corinth,
knew that all of life depends on our
(tail); decisions. "Ye should do that which
is honest," he told them. To those in
Thessalonica who were surrounded by
evils of every sort he wrote, "Study to be
quiet, and to do your own business . . .
that ye may walk honestly toward them
8
INEZ BRASIER
that are without." They were to live in
their souls as they would have all men
know them outwardly.
Are we honest with ourselves? Can
we face each new day conscious that we
measure up to God's standard in time,
in speech, in thought?
Are we honest with Him in the use
of His time—a talent of which He will
one day require the strictest accounting?
Do we speak words we would want echoed
back to us from the lips of others? Are
our thoughts such that we will not be
ashamed to have them penned in heaven's
record?
We have ourselves to live with—always!
And on the kind of person with whom we
live, whether honest in the sight of men
and angels or not, depends our future,
whether eternal loss or eternal gain.
in the middle of it. It was just wide
enough for the car to pass. The second
river had the remains of a second bridge
spanning it alongside of the bridge that
was used. The third bridge was one that
had been in the building process when we
went over it nine months before. We
were the last car over it before it was torn
up and the first car back over it when it
was finished, but it was not yet opened
to heavy traffic.
The fourth and last river we crossed
was over the bridge at the post of Dala,
named for a very poisonous snake in that
region, which, vow the natives, flies. If
we could have seen these rivers in daylight, we would have found that they were
beautifully clear, with sandy bottoms, but
that they were infested with crocodiles.
As we crossed the last river we could hear
the water rushing over the stones just
below us, as it dashed downward toward
the falls that forms another beauty spot
of Angola.
Just beyond Dala we turned off the
main road into a narrow, winding road
leading to the mission. It was now past
midnight, and the heavy dew had fallen.
The tall grass leaned out into the road to
swish against our windshield and wet it.
The tree-lined road looked so narrow that
it seemed we would surely hit the trees.
After thinking that each flat we came out
onto must be the flat just before the
Mufeje River, which is the boundary of
our mission, we finally did come out to
the river, crossed it, and then drove up
to the mission.
It was so late that we did not sound our
horn, but we need not have been so
silent. The missionaries, far from sleeping,
were praying earnestly that the doctor
would soon come. All were in bed with a
food poisoning of some kind. They looked
sunken-eyed and pale. Surely, we had
brought just the thing for them. But when
we looked through the medical bag, there
was nothing for severe diarrhea. The last
tube had been given to some needy person
before we left the mission, and we had
forgotten to replace it. Not a thing could
we do for the poor folks except give them
some moral support, and boil some green
apple skins and let them drink the water.
We told them we had brought fresh
fruit and vegetables. What rejoicing that
bit of news brought, for they had been
living on a diet of rice, peanuts, beans,
macaroni, and pumpkin! Even their milk
was powdered. Then we remembered that
the powdered milk we were supposed to
have brought was not with us! The one
who had unpacked the car on Sabbath
night had included the potatoes, but the
milk had remained at Bongo Mission!
As we drove into the mission compound
at two in the morning the African drums
were beating outside. This meant drinking and dancing. We found out next
morning from the native nurse, Adolpho,
that they make liquor of corn, as the
To page 21
I
THE Z QGLt4d INSTRUCTOR
•
A Song in the
NIGHT
By DOREEN FOX
•
•
i
KEYSTONE VIEW CO.
HE winter seemed long that year.
For days it had rained, turning
the crossings into stream beds
and filling gateways and paths
with sticky, treacherous mud, into which
the animals' hoofs sank deeply.
With head bowed and shoulders bent,
Jan sat upon a bale of hay which should
have been diminishing before the onslaughts of the hungry bullocks. His eyes
were fixed on an uninspiring bunch of
thistles at his feet, while through his mind
marched the great question, Why?
Why should he have to stay on the
farm when all his comrades were at training in the professions they had chosen as
lads? All his life Jan had dreamed of the
day when he would see the shore line of
his homeland fade into nothing as a great
ship bore him away to a mission station.
Not that Jan disliked his home—oh, no.
He loved his home and parents, but the
thought of working for his Father in a
far-off land filled him with intense joy.
That would be his chance to work and
sacrifice for One who had done so much
for him.
It seemed now as if his dream would
never come true, for just as he was making good progress on educational lines Illness arrived at home, unpacked his bags,
and settled in for what looked like a long
visit.
Jan remembered with a pang the day
he had hung away his college clothes,
T
AUGUST 31, 1954
placed his books on the shelves by his
bed, donned his overalls, and had gone
out to take the ax from his dad, who was
in no fit condition to be using it. Dad had
placed his hand lovingly on the boy's
shoulder with, "Thanks, son." Then he
had added, "My boy, I am sorry things
have turned out this way."
"It's all right, Dad," Jan had replied
with a cheerfulness he did not feel. "I
guess my education can wait. Your health
is more important than it."
Jan felt repaid a million times for his
mock cheer when he saw the smile that
swept across his father's pale face. He
had used that ax with a will, promising
himself that he would use his spare time
for study. He'd link up with a correspondence school, that's what he'd do.
Things would be fine again.
But day after day work for which Jan
had made no allowances confronted him,
demanding attention. Each day Jan assured himself that things would improve,
believing optimistically that tomorrow
would be better. There were few better
tomorrows, however. The weeks grew
into months, and Jan's books enjoyed long
vacations.
From time to time during the summer,
despair and resentment marched into close
quarters, confident of overcoming their
victim, but each time they had been sent
off in full retreat by Jan's optimism. Then
winter set in. Each day seemed to bring
some gift of vexation. These, allied with
winter's dull and miserable conditions,
had swept in, stealing portions of the
boy's cheerfulness and inner sunshine before he could drive them off. Now upon
this bale he sat, the embodiment of discouragement and blighted hope.
Presently through all his bitter questionings and proposed plans for kicking
over the traces Jan seemed to hear voices
speaking to him. One said, "Jan, for many
years I worked in a carpenter's shop,
serving the needs of people about me. I
erected no elaborate architectural struc-
tures, but I made many articles that gave
people comfort or helped them gain a
living from the land."
As that voice ceased a second spoke.
"Jan," it said, "for forty years I worked in
the wilderness, daily seeking pastures for
a flock of sheep and keeping them from
harm. I was called from the great school
in Egypt to learn of God in humble surroundings. Not until those weary years
were ended was I allowed to go and work
for the Creator."
"Jan," said yet another voice, "I was
a shepherd boy before• I became king."
"Jan," broke in a fourth, "I was plowing my father's field when God called me
into His service."
While Jan meditated upon what he
had heard, there came to him out of the
past a cheering line from a chorus he had
learned at junior camp, "Trust in the
Lord and don't despair," it sang to his
troubled heart. Scarcely had the last word
died away before into his mind flashed
the promise: "Ye shall have a song, as in
the night."
"God has sent me my song in the darkest hour," murmured Jan reverently.
"Perhaps this heralds a glorious dawn. It
has removed my burden of unrest, anyway. This must be my wilderness and
carpenter-shop experience. If Jesus, Moses,
David, and Elisha could serve in obscurity
with patience, it certainly is wrong for me
to take this attitude toward my position.
Perhaps I shall never reach a distant mission field, but I'll find one for myself here.
I shall serve, though I have to stay and
wait."
Having thus reasoned with himself, Jan
stood up, grasped the hay, and advanced
toward the animals that had been surveying it with anticipation all the while. As
Jan tossed it over the fence he sent his
blues with it. Striding across the yard, he
swung himself into the saddle and galloped over the hill, whistling: "God is
still on His throne," another camp favorite.
9
How to Keep Sin From "Taking"
By VINSTON E. ADAMS
NE day I went to visit a printer,
There were many and various
machines in. this particular shop,
but the one that intrigued me
most was an offset press. I was used to
seeing presses print from type or conventional printing plates, but here was a machine that printed from plates that were
apparently smooth. Certain areas held a
photographic image on them, and I discovered that printing was done from these
areas only.
The offset printing process is too complicated to explain in detail here, but one
factor especially intrigued my mind as I
saw the press operate.
As the cylinders and rollers moved
round and round, always in the same direction, I saw that the printing plate was
exposed first to a roller covered with cloth,
which put water on the plate. But the
water would not cling to those portions of
the plate where the photographic image
was. After the plate was thus dampened
it passed quickly under the inking rollers.
The portions of the plate that were damp
would not receive ink from the ink rollers,
but the portions where there was an image
took ink readily. The plate, thus dampened and inked, was pressed against a
rubber-covered cylinder, to which the ink
was transferred. This rubber-covered cylinder, in turn, was pressed against the paper
that was to be printed.
I was assured that if a plate with no
photographic image in it were put in the
machine, the plate would not take any
ink at all from the ink rollers if it had
first been dampened.
As I stood wondering at the chemistry
of the process, I was struck with the
analogy between what I was seeing and
the Christian life.
When we are first converted the thrill
of new knowledge, new spiritual existence, is so great that we are carried along
for a time by the momentum of our new
enthusiasm. But almost inevitably a reaction sets in. We find ourselves slipping
into old habits of sin, into the old ways
we left in the first flush of our new spiritual life.
This backsliding may occur so quietly
and imperceptibly that we do not notice
our condition until we suddenly realize
that we are no longer Christ's children,
and we wonder how it happened.
To the more thoughtful, however, this
experience comes as a reminder that we
0
10
are still in a world largely controlled by
the prince of darkness. When we come to
this realization, here and then begins the
real battle of the Christian life. How to
recognize or prevent this reaction is therefore the greatest concern of every one who
is an active Christian.
Christ prayed that His Father would
keep us who are "in the world," from the
evil of the world. And He says further,
"The glory which thou gayest me I have
given them." The Spirit of prophecy tells
us that the consecrated Christian will be
constantly receiving supplies of grace.
The dampened printing plate, even
though exposed to a heavily inked roller,
received no ink. The Christian, though
"in the world," if fortified daily by Bible
study and prayer, will receive no contamination by exposure to the sins of the
world.
But the dampening process had to be
renewed immediately, and before each
exposure to the ink roller. Otherwise evaporation dried the plate, and it would
take ink everywhere. So daily, hourly,
even moment by moment we must
seek to have our lives protected by applications of the Holy Spirit. To be without
Him even momentarily may open the
way to sin.
"Not by works of righteousness which
we have done, but according to his mercy
he saved us, by the washing of regeneration, and renewing of the Holy Ghost."
If we constantly submit our lives to
the washing of the Spirit of God, we shall
be thoroughly protected against the imprint of Satan. In this manner the perfect
Christian life is lived. "And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind."
The rather involved processes of an offset printing press are based upon the fact that water and
ink do not mix. In the well-adjusted Christian life the same principle keeps us righteous.
THE tieletti INSTRUCTOR
A carload of
shipped from the
to a city in the East.
large red apples, perfect in symmetry
such as only Washington can produce, but
upon their arrival at their destination it
was discovered that inside those waxy,
rosy skins there were loathsome white
worms, and endless wormholes. Beauty
was only skin deep with those apples, and
they were a disappointment to all who saw
them.
So it often is with beautiful girls. They
may have a waxy, rosy complexion that
would win any beauty contest, but are
they as pure and good inside? Is their
character as beautiful as their skin? Or is
that rosy glow genuine? There are many
drugstore complexions these days.
When I was a young girl I was not
especially pretty or attractive, and because
of this I had what is commonly termed an
inferiority complex. My mother had repeatedly told me that "pretty is as pretty
does," but it hardly consoled my hurt
pride when my sister was complimented
for her rosy cheeks and gleaming white
teeth while I was completely ignored.
Heaven's Beauty Contest
By MRS. A. R. HOLT
HE African snail, anywhere from
six to nine inches long, is a beautiful creature with a shell as large
as a baseball. With its combination of pretty greens, soft pinks, purples,
and browns, often interspersed with pure
white, every shell is attractive in appearance.
To look at, this snail is most pleasing,
but its destructive ability can hardly be
overestimated. The only beauty this creature possesses is on the outside, for underneath this glamorous shell is the slimy
body that is not at all inviting to look
upon, and that carries within it all the
destructive power necessary to ruin our
loveliest gardens. Like the whited sepulchers spoken of in the Bible, this snail is
indeed beautiful outwardly but within is
full of all uncleanness.
We have always been fond of cats at our
house and have had dozens of them
within the past years. We have learned
much about their world and their habits,
but the one thing that has impressed me
most is that a beautiful cat may have a
very ugly disposition.
One cat I had when I was a young girl
was a large Angora ball of feline beauty,
AUGUST 31, 1954
but it was the most ill-behaved creature I
have ever owned. Its disposition was nothing like its coat of gorgeous silver fur.
After trying for nearly two years to love
this cat I decided it was useless, and
finally I gave it to a farmer who needed
a mouser, although I could not even
guarantee that it would catch mice. Some
people are like that. They are attractive to
look at but not very pleasant to know.
And before long no one even enjoys looking at them.
There are beauty shows for dogs, cats,
horses, and other domestic animals, as
well as for human beings; but I have read
that those animals that win beauty contests are rarely good for anything else.
Their coats are groomed and regroomed
in preparation for the show. Then they
are placed in a cage or stall to be ohed
and ahed at by all the passers-by who love
beauty.
When the ribbons are given to the
winners their masters or mistresses start
grooming them for the next show, and
so it is over and over again, until the
animals die of boredom or old age. But
what else are these beauties good for?
They are only to look at and admire.
It seemed only natural that I should
feel somewhat elated when a girl whom
I considered exceptionally beautiful chose
to chum with me. Her extraordinary
personality, which added to her simple
beauty, had me indeed charmed.
But there was a sad ending to this experience, which proved to me that beauty
is not everything. She became vain and
proud when she discovered that she was
unusually beautiful, and would stand for
hours at a time before the mirror arranging her hair and "fixing" her face, until
she thought she looked just right. This
vanity increased, until she became very
worldly and popular among those in socalled high society.
Then one day, while still a young
woman in her twenties, she was stricken
with what proved a fatal illness. She lived
only a few days, and I was one of the
few friends who saw her just before her
death. I could scarcely believe my eyes
when I walked into her hospital room,
for she was not the beautiful girl of a
week before. Her face was swollen, her
once-lovely skin was spotted with purple
and yellow blotches. There was no mark
To page 21
HE sound of shouting woke Janet.
She sat up in bed. The early
morning sunlight was streaming
into the room, but when she
looked down at the bay she could see
only a thick white woolly blanket hugging
the water. Then she realized that the fog
signal from the heads had been sounding
in her ears for half the night.
But what was that shouting? Had one
of the small fishing vessels run aground in
the mist?
No, it was too regular and cheerful a
call for that. First a loud, clear cry, and
then a very muffled echo sounded from
somewhere out on the water.
She took a closer look at the low-lying
mist. Ah! that must be what it was! She
could just see the tops of two masts, and
their supporting guy wires, moving slowly
along at the foot of the cliffs, where the
channel ran close inshore.
Someone on the vessel must have
climbed to the masthead and discovered
how shallow the fog was, and an officer
had taken his charts up and was guiding
the ship by the shore markers, which stood
on high' ground well above the mist. He
was shouting directions to the steersman
and the muffled voice was his reply.
By the time the fog broke and the
three other ships, which had stood outside the heads holding communication by
whistles with one another and the shore,
not daring to enter the Rip, had sailed
majestically inside, the little collier was
twenty miles up the bay and well on its
way to port.
As she watched the mists eddying over
the water, Janet thought of the time,
nearly a hundred years before, when Margaret Fea, as a child, had sailed in those
very same Australian heads—eventually to
find herself in fogs of the spirit as thick
as shore mists that had mantled the bay
this morning—and of the Pilot whom
she had trusted to give her safe directions
for steering into port.
The immigrant ship, with her white
canvas billowing, made a pretty picture
as she rounded Cape Otway and made for
Port Phillip Heads. The captain swung
little four-year-old Margaret up, as she
ran along the deck.
NOT E
By RAi
"What will I buy you when we come
into port?" he asked. "What would you
really like?"
"Anything, just anything I like?" Margaret was considering.
"Yes, anything." Perhaps the captain,
having watched the child for eight
months, was not so rash as he sounded.
"Well, do you think if it wasn't too
much trouble, that I could have a loaf of
fresh bread?"
With a laugh he promised, and before
the port officials came from shore he had
signaled to land and had a loaf of bread
sent out with them in their boat.
Amid the hurly-burly of berthing and
getting passengers' papers fixed up, little
Margaret sat in a corner of the deck pulling the soft, white inside out of the loaf,
and after the long months of eating hard,
cabin biscuits, she enjoyed the bread as
much as if it had been cake.
Somehow that incident seems typical
of Margaret's simple, sweet, and undemanding attitude toward life, which
brought her love wherever she had to go.
Life in the new country was strange at
first; but the Fea family soon adapted
themselves, and Father Fea took a position in the Lighthouse Service. Later
Margaret married a lighthouse keeper,
and it was while she lived at one of
their lonely stations that she found more
time to study her beloved Bible.
Something began to puzzle her. She
seemed to find more and more each day
that the old Book taught that the seventh
day was the Sabbath. She searched and
searched, but found no mention of keeping the first day of the week holy. "How,"
she thought, "can everyone be wrong,
though? Surely I cannot be right, when
everyone else keeps another day," so she
tried to push the thought to the back of
her mind.
Persistently, however, the verses rang
in her mind. "Remember the sabbath day
... the seventh day is the sabbath." Finally,
she decided that she would write to her
The immigrant ship, with her white canvas billowing, made a pretty picture as she rounded the
cape. "What will I buy you when we come into
port?" the captain asked four-year-old Margaret.
THE . 4e4.(41 INSTRUCTOR
SIGHT
HRENS
good old father and put the matter before
him. It would not be an easy letter to
write, but her father was a just and honest
man, and she believed that he would give
her a true and well-prayed-over answer
to her questions.
Weeks had to pass before his reply
could reach her. Then, one day, it came.
"DEAR MARGARET,
"Regarding your questions about the
seventh day being the Sabbath, I have
read the verses you listed, and, personally,
I can see no light in the subject. Perhaps
it is that I have grown old in the way in
which my forefathers worshiped; but,
child, this is my message to you. If, after
studying those verses, you are thoroughly
convinced that God wants you to keep
Saturday, do it. If you do not follow the
things you believe God wants you to do,
you break your connection with Him."
From that day Margaret, to the best of
her ability, kept the seventh-day Sabbath.
For about twelve years she went this
lonely way, with only the Voice from
above to guide her.
Then, one day, they ran out of stores.
Her husband came to the kitchen door.
"Margaret! We are getting so low with
different supplies that I think I will have
to get a dray and go into town. Would
you like to come with me? We will have
to start very early, and the trip will take
the full day."
Well, if you had not been away from
the house for months, what would you
have said?
It was Saturday morning when they
reached the little coastal town.
To Porter's for leather goods, to
Smith's for parts for a house lamp, bread,
candles, groceries, meat. What a list James
Stuart had! But when they got to Porter's,
the door was shut. They crossed the street
to McAdam's grocery.
"Is Porter ill?" queried James. "I don't
like having leatherwork done elsewhere.
He uses the best leather of anyone I
know."
"Oh, no!" laughed McAdam, "he has
taken a notion that Sunday is the wrong
day to keep, and he shuts up his shop and
reads his Bible all day Saturday."
AUGUST 31, 1954
"That's queer. I suppose I will have to
get Quilter's to fix this strap for me, as I
am in a hurry for it; but I will send in
again for the other stuff. I like Porter's
work best."
The little wife had stood by with a
quiet face, but her brain was working
rapidly. Here, then, was someone else
who believed the same things that she did.
All her partly understood beliefs rushed
through her mind again.
On the long ride home she was very
quiet, but that closed door was witnessing
in her mind that someone else had heard
the same Voice, and was following the
same way as herself.
Various lighthouses had seen James and
Margaret Stuart, and the little folks who
had come to gladden their home; but
now, James had served his time of office,
and they all went back to the city, where
the growing children could attend school
and learn trades.
PHOTO, COURTESY OF THE AUTHOR.
Margaret Stuart
"Look at that tent, Mamma! There
must be a circus coming."
Margaret hurried her two youngest
away from the large tent. There was no
money in their home to pay for circuses;
so, the less looking, the less longing, for
the little ones.
As they neared home they met the
woman from two houses away.
"Did you see that tent up the street?"
she snorted. "Some Americans are there,
trying to tell us that Sunday should be
Saturday or some such nonsense. Did
you ever hear the like? And they have
awful pictures of creatures hanging up.
They would scare any youngsters stiff.
I went once, but not again, thank you!"
and, on she sailed.
Once again Margaret said very little,
but the next Sunday night she and several
of the children attended the service in that
tent. Margaret discovered that there were
still others who believed as she did. The
prophecies and studies she heard opened
her eyes to other uncomprehended Bible
truths. She did not miss a meeting after
that, and some time later she took her
stand with the new, despised sect.
James accepted her decision, and when
she asked them, the children went to
meetings with her; but only one of them
decided to follow the same faith at that
time. Still, she felt as though the cloud
had been lifted, and once again life became easier sailing.
Then James became ill. Trouble heaped
up more clouds to obscure her path. After
James's death his small pension ceased;
also, a flaw was found in his insurance
papers, and there was no money to keep
up payments on their house. Fortunately
the children all had work, or matters
would have been even worse.
Margaret visited an old friend who had
a private hospital.
"Elizabeth, would you be willing to
take me in here, to train for a nurse?"
Elizabeth stared. "Margaret! At your
age! Why, you must be fifty-six, dear!
Could you do the studying? I don't worry
about the work, you will probably spoil
all my patients, but the doctor's tests—
what about them?"
"I can only try. It is the only thing I
can think of to do."
So, while her children scattered to the
other states, to New Zealand, to the Pacific
Islands, to France, she quietly put her
faith in God and went ahead, and soon
Nurse Stuart was an institution. Her patients loved her. They loved to have her
come into their homes. They loved to
hear her soft voice singing: "There is a
happy land, far, far away," or "There'll
be no dark valley when Jesus comes."
They felt that heaven came nearer for
having her there.
As the years went by, life grew a little
easier. She had had the joy of being joined
in her beliefs by two of her younger children. Life settled into a round of gentle
kindnesses—a visit to an old patient, a
basket of darning taken home to do for
a tired mother, a trip to a friend who was
a dressmaker so that she could get a
bundle of scraps to make doll's clothes
for her small grandchildren and other
acquaintances, a day spent doing ironing
for one of her daughters.
The very sight of her old black bonnet
with its crisp ribbon tie was the signal for
chubby legs to race down the street—
"Nurse Stuart [or perhaps Grandma] is
coming, Nurse Stuart is coming!" And
all the books and childish treasures would
be piled in her lap for her dutiful admiration.
There came a Sabbath evening when, as
the sun was setting in crimson glory, the
old white-haired saint sat in bed at her
daughter's home.
"I feel too weary to get up for worship,
dear. Give me baby up here, and I will
keep him quiet while you have prayer."
To page 21
13
ON CALL
for Surgery
By EVONNE FROMAN
ETTY drew a deep breath and
glanced quickly about her. It was
hard to breathe through a surgery
mask. And she must stand very
carefully, holding her hands in front of
her. She must not touch anything that
would contaminate them. The gown, she
decided, was designed for its effectiveness
in use, and not for appearance.
Soon the patient would be wheeled in.
Everything must go perfectly. There was
one thing about surgery training that
made it different from other phases of
nurses' training. It gave the student a
special feeling of being needed. Especially
on the weekend, when only emergency
operations are done, and one is on call,
there must be that sense of readiness for
whatever might develop.
When the call had come, the simple
words, "Miss Mills, you're wanted in
surgery," were announced to her, and
Betty had time only to straighten her
clothing, wrap her cape around her, and
hurry across to the hospital and up the
stairs to surgery.
Once there, she flew into the necessary
preparations. There were the instruments
and the draping sets to get ready. Then
Miss White, the head nurse with her, had
suggested that Betty scrub her hands and
arms in order to lay out the sterile supplies,
and she would bring in the rest. Miss
White was a wonderful supervisor. She
was good to the girls, and though it was
necessary for the good of the patient to be
precise and keep sterile things sterile, she
realized that much more could be accomplished with a smile and encouragement.
Now the patient was being anesthetized.
There was something almost ethereal,
thought Betty, in the sound of the "ting"
as the air was drawn in from the breather
bag by the patient's slow, regular respirations. It sounded almost like a loosened
chain beating against a flagpole on some
bleak, windy hill.
To the patient this was no ordinary
event. She had suffered discomfort and
pain and had realized that something
would have to be done. Betty tried to
imagine how she might feel if she were
14
told that she would have to have an
operation. The patient was probably a
little apprehensive of this process of going
to sleep, and then after she woke up, for
several days, or even weeks, she would be
weak and uncomfortable and sore from
the incision. There would be her family
too, to consider. How would they respond
to this event? Were they worried about
finances?
Betty interrupted her reverie, because
the doctors were ready, and it was time to
begin. She concentrated on the operation.
A gloved hand made the incision, and a
muffled voice requested, "Hemostat."
Betty flipped the surgeon one quickly.
More followed.
The patient, peacefully trusting her
doctor, was unaware how completely her
life was in the hands of the masked white
figures hovering over her.
The doctor called for sponges, and these
were laid out to him, so his field could be
wiped clear for his work.
Through the doorway Betty noticed
white-clad Sally Anderson, her classmate,
coming.
"Miss Anderson will help you," said
the supervisor. That was like Miss White
—calling another girl. Sally didn't mind.
Not only could she help make the work
of the operation go more smoothly, but
she could be strength to Betty by her
charming presence.
Sally helped Betty keep the doctors supplied with the instruments they needed.
Sometimes their eyes met across the table,
and a friendly twinkle came into them.
Sally was a good friend. She was forgoing
her rest just to do what bit she could.
"We're ready to sew up now," the
surgeon said, and was given the proper
suturing thread and needle, ready to be
used. Just a few minutes more. The
skilled hands worked quickly. Now the
last layer was drawn together and the last
stitch taken. A neat bandage was applied,
and the patient was transferred to the cart
and taken back to her room.
The operation was over. But Betty was
not through with her thinking. The procedure had served to start a chain of
thoughts in her mind.
Being on call for surgery is, in a small
way, like being on call for God. We may
not know just what will be required of
us. Let us not, like Gideon, insist on
further interpretation of the task we are
called to do, before we begin.
In this life it is good to have friends like
Sally. We can strengthen one another
when the going is rough. Jesus is our best
Friend. Let us not fail Him. Sometimes
with a cheerful word or a smile we can
make things seem brighter for those
with whom we work. When He comes,
how shall we stand with regard to the
little things we do as unto Him?
Let's be on call for Him.
MONKMEYER
Sally helped Betty keep the doctors supplied with the instruments they needed. Sometimes their
eyes met, across the table, and a friendly twinkle came into them. Sally was a good friend.
THE *lettk INSTRUCTOR
SABBATH
SCHOOL
creatures. 'The Sabbath, therefore, lies at the very foundation
of divine worship; for it teaches this great truth in the most
impressive manner, and no other institution does this. The true
ground of divine worship, not of that on the seventh day merely,
but of all worship, is found in the distinction between the Creator
and His creatures. This great fact can never become obsolete, and
must never be forgotten.'"—J. N. ANDREWS, History of the
Sabbath, quoted in The Great Controversy, pp. 437, 438.
FOR TUESDAY
8. Was the Sabbath made for me? (Mark 2:27.)
The Sabbath
LESSON FOR SEPTEMBER 11
FOR SABBATH AFTERNOON
MEMORY GEM: "The sabbath was made for man, and not
man for the sabbath" (Mark 2:27).
THINK IT OVER: God made the lofty trees that my joy might
be full.
God made the delicate flowers that my joy might be full.
God made the birds to sing that my joy might be full.
God gave me time, the Sabbath, to delight myself in the
works of His hands that my joy might be full.
FOR SUNDAY
1. On which day did God finish His work? (Gen 2:2,
first part).
"On the seventh day God ended his work which he had made."
NOTE.—"God designs that the Sabbath shall direct the minds
of men to the contemplation of His created works. Nature speaks
to their senses, declaring that there is a living God, the Creator,
the Supreme Ruler of all."—Patriarchs and Prophets, p. 48.
2. On which day did He rest? (Gen. 2:2, last part.)
"And he rested on the seventh day from all his work which he
had made."
3. Which day did He bless? (Gen. 2:3.)
"And God blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it: because
that in it he had rested from all his work which God created and
made."
NOTE.—The word Sabbath means "rest." His second act was
the placing of His blessing upon the Sabbath. Therefore it became
His "blessed" rest day.
4. Which day is the Sabbath? (Ex. 20:10, first part.)
"The sabbath was made for man, and not man for the sabbath."
NOTE.—"God saw that a Sabbath was essential for man.
. . . He needed a Sabbath, to remind him more vividly of God,
and to awaken gratitude because all that he enjoyed and possessed came from the beneficent hand of the Creator."—Patriarchs
and Prophets, p. 48.
9. What kind of Sabbathkeeping is pleasing to the Lord?
(Isa. 58:13, 14, first part.)
"If thou turn away thy foot from the sabbath, from doing thy
Pleasure on my holy day; and call the sabbath a delight, the
holy of the Lord, honourable; and shalt honour him, not doing
thine own ways, nor finding thine own pleasure, nor speaking
thine own words; then shalt thou delight thyself in the Lord."
10. In the days of Christ what day preceded the Sabbath?
(Luke 23:54.)
"And that day was the preparation, and the sabbath drew on."
11. What day had just ended before the first day dawned?
(Matt. 28:1.)
"In the end of the sabbath, as it began to dawn toward the first
day of the week."
FOR WEDNESDAY
12. Which day is the Lord's day? (Mark 2:28.)
"Therefore the Son of man is Lord also of the sabbath."
NOTE.—The Sabbath is the only day in the week designated
as "the Lord's day." The very fact that Christ claims to be the
"Lord of the sabbath" is the highest honor that could be conferred
upon it.
13. On what day of the week did John have his vision?
(Rev. 1:10.)
"I was in the Spirit on the Lord's day, and heard behind me a
great voice, as of a trumpet."
14. On what day did Jesus attend church? (Luke 4:16,
last part.)
"As his custom was, he went into the synagogue on the sabbath
day, and stood up for to read."
NOTE.—It was our Saviour's "custom" to attend divine service
"But the seventh day is the sabbath of the Lord thy God."
FOR MONDAY
5. What man will God bless? (Isa. 56:2.)
"Blessed is the man that doeth this, . . . that keepeth the
sabbath from polluting it."
NOTE.—"The Sabbath, ever pointing to Him who made them
all, bids men open the great book of nature, and trace therein
the wisdom, the power, and the love of the Creator."—Patriarchs
.and Prophets, p. 48.
6. What am I to remember? (Ex. 20:8.)
"Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy."
7. What else will I remember when I keep the Sabbath?
(Ex. 20:11.)
"For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea,
.and all that in them is, and rested the seventh day: wherefore the
Lord blessed the sabbath day, and hallowed it."
NOTE.--The importance of the Sabbath as a memorial of
•creation is that it keeps ever present the true reason why worship
is due to God,'—because He is the Creator, and we are His
. AUGUST 31, 1954
Readdeetagee
By Nona Keen Duffy
You can sleep, you can rest,
Knowing God's awake;
Watch He'll keep till night shall end
And loving care He'll take.
Go to sleep upon His arm.
His love shall be your shawl;
He will keep away all harm,
For God loves each and all.
I
.5
on the Sabbath. The word custom implies a constant practice.
15. On what day did the apostles attend church? (Acts
13:14.)
"But when they departed from Perga, they came to Antioch in
Pisidia, and went into the synagogue on the sabbath day."
FOR THURSDAY
16. How long will we be privileged to worship God on
the Sabbath? (Isa. 66:23.)
"And it shall come to pass, that from one new moon to another,
and from one sabbath to another, shall all flesh come to worship
before me, saith the Lord."
nadetegat'd
NOTE.—If we hope to share in the blessing of Sabbathkeeping in the earth made new, we must keep the Sabbath here.
17. What do I have when I keep the Sabbath and the
other commandments? (Rev. 22:14.)
"Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may
have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates
into the city."
FOR FRIDAY
Make a list of things that are a delight and are right to do on
the Sabbath.
Make another list of the things that are questionable to do.
Take both lists to Sabbath school and compare with others.
7aa
By JERRY HETZER
0
UESDAY morning at Acushnet Bay found the sun just
coming up on the Massachusetts Machine Shop with the
fishing boats tied up alongside its docks.
At eight o'clock the shrill whistle
sounded as the last employees arrived for
work. Among these professional machinists was a man named Henry. He was a
likable man of gentle nature with blue
coveralls neatly covering his lanky frame.
On his face was a smile of kindness, and
through his rimless glasses a sparkle in
his eyes seemed to say Good morning.
"Hank" was a vertical turret lathe
operator of great skill and had been a
valuable man to have in the shops. He
had worked there for over five years.
This morning Hank was to turn a large
heavy iron casting of fourteen inches in
diameter for the capstan head on the
Eulysis II, which had been tied up for
several days at the shop docks. He took
the heavy casting and chucked it up in
the lathe and then selected a sharp tool
from the tool bit rack on the machine.
The operation began. Hank set the automatic feed and let the lathe do the work.
As the tool cut into the metal Hank
was able to divert his mind to other
things. Being a zealous Christian, he
thought of how he could best be able
to show his friends at prayer meeting
tomorrow night the characteristics of sanctification.
He looked at the lathe turning, and
noticed how the tool would only shave
away a few of the highest places on the
rough casting. "Why, here is an illustration for my talk at prayer meeting," he
thought. "This resembles the sanctifying
power of God upon a person who at one
time led a worldly life, with all the evils
impressed upon his countenance, and
then shows how God fashioned him into
a Christian."
In Hank's thinking the tool was the
16
hand of God as it trimmed away the imperfections. The driving force of the lathe
resembled the power of the Holy Spirit as
it moved, trimming away the defects of
character that so marred the soul. The
casting began to shape up, and the surfaces became smooth, though of a dull
appearance. The iron had growled and
grumbled during the cutting processes.
By its very nature iron is hard.
"What a thought!" mused Hank.
"That's just the way some people are.
They grumble and complain at their misfortunes in life, and they are hardhearted."
Soon the machining was finished, and
since it was only eleven-thirty in the
morning, Hank reported for another job.
The foreman gave him the blueprints of
a winch shaft, which was to be made of
brass, for the same boat, the Eulysis II.
Hank measured out the stock and cut
it to length. He put it in the lathe, centered it, and then started the machine.
The tool of the lathe again began cutting, but there was a marked difference
between the way the brass and the iron
worked. The brass was softer, and very
shiny from the start. It was of the same
consistency all the way through. There
were no flaws uncovered, as had been
the case in the sand holes of the iron
casting. To Hank this metal typified the
true principles incorporated into the life
of a person in which all the motives are
pure and consistent no matter how much
of the surface has been cut away. The
iron had many flaws concealed, and resembled a person of a hypocritical nature.
Surely these two metals had revealed
to Hank the two characteristics of the
heart in sanctification. One was true always; the other, only when occasion demanded it.
The operation continued to its completion at the end of the day. With these
thoughts still fresh in mind, Hank left
for home, where he could prepare for his
talk on the following night.
With five years' experience Hank was a valuable man. He was a lathe operator of skill.
THE eleLettii INSTRUCTOR
HE air tonight is full of strange
and foreign sounds. From the
distance come the shouting, yelling, and laughter of a native beer
party; nearer is the joyful sound of children playing and singing in their native
tongue; interwoven is the cry of some
night bird.
But listen! There is a strange noise that
I cannot analyze. I go to inquire of my
neighbors, who have been in this part of
the country much longer than I.
"It is the sound of the baboons," they
say. Ah, they too are enjoying this beautiful tropical moonlight night.
Another evening as I sit on the veranda
cleaning wheat, which I will grind tomorrow for making bread, I hear other
sounds. Close by I hear in English,
"B-U-T-C-H, come to supper." I hear the
voices of at least ten children speaking
in a language that I can understand;
farther down the hill I hear a whistle
blow, calling two of the ten children to
come for their supper.
Queenie, our collie, and Lassie, an
Alsatian that lives across the road, have
just started a race up the road to see
which is the faster runner. At the well a
small boy has been trying for at least
twenty minutes to fill a little watering can.
He is too interested in watching the
Azungu (European) children at their
play.
The sun is just setting, and the sky is
a beautiful pink and old rose. How many
changes we have witnessed since our arrival six and a half years ago! This too is
a beautiful night, and I say a little prayer
of thanks to God for the many blessings
that are ours here at Malamulo.
How many things have happened during those years! How much we have
learned! What a training ground it has
been for developing patience!
•
I am reminded of the time that I had a
new cook and told him to cook some beets
for lunch, never doubting but that he
knew how to do this simple thing. When
I went into the kitchen just before lunch
to see how he was getting along, I saw
one pot with some wine-colored juice in
it, and asked him what it was.
"Oh, that is mulberry juice for the
beets!" He was just going to dice the
beets into this juice when I stopped him.
Too bad I didn't let him go ahead, for
he might have shown me a better way of
preparing beets! He figured that because
mulberries are the same color as beets,
they must go well together!
Then I remember the time we were
given Herman. Herman is a donkey. We
sent our boy forty miles into town to get
him. Herman had been ridden and was
a very gentle donkey—we were told. Poor
Daudi! The giver suggested that his own
boy go along with our boy to bring him
to us, just in case of difficulty. All the
forty miles home one boy was behind
pushing while the other was in front
pulling with all his might! It took Daudi
T
AUGUST 31, 1954
Those white pieces of paper mean everything in the world to these lepers. They are certificates of health, stating that the person is free from the disease and may enjoy a normal life.
MUSINGS of a
DOCTOR'S WIFE
By ETHEL CARR KOTZ
two or three days to get over the strain,
and his muscles ached for days!
Herman loves children or company of
any kind and is very affectionate. He used
to come up to our front windows and
whinny until someone would come out
and talk to him. One Sabbath after he
had succeeded in getting the entire family
out onto the porch to rub his neck the doctor decided to count his teeth or some
such thing to do with his mouth—perhaps
to see if he had brushed his teeth that
morning.
After his inspection was finished,
Freddie, our five-year-old, also wanted to
see what was inside those ample lips.
Herman had had enough embarrassment
for one day, so clamped down—right on
one of Freddie's fingers. A spine-tingling
shriek pierced the air and remained midair until we managed to persuade Herman
to relax. We were happy that no part of
the finger remained in Herman's mouth,
but Herman's teeth marks remained on
Freddie's finger for some days.
Poor Herman was always into trouble.
If not with us, then with the neighbors,
which is so much worse. One day he decided to have a good roll over in the
neighbor's wheat field. From then on,
Herman left our humble abode and went
across the tracks to live with the cows.
He has been there ever since, and is now
employed in the menial task of hauling
fertilizer for the mission gardens.
A big day in our lives was when the
governor sent a message that he would
come on Sunday, April 12, 1953, to visit
Malamulo Mission. With him would be
three government officials. In a second
car would be his wife, Lady Colby, attended by two ladies. Many branches were
pulled off the trees to make brooms for
sweeping up the roads after the bricks
had been crushed to fill up the many
holes. It's a good thing we have distinguished visitors once in a while, because
then we see what a beautiful plate this
can be! Everything was really shining
when they arrived.
17
We were asked to serve "tea" (refreshments) in our home. Our guests would
arrive at 10:45 A.M. I had never served tea
to any but friends who frequently drop
in, and had no other idea than to pour the
drink myself and pass it around as I
poured each cup. Little did I know that
it was very improper to pour standing up.
You always sit!
When the governor's car pulled into
our driveway (he was early), my hair was
still in pin curls and my dress was not
yet on! I nearly collapsed, but frantically
pulled out pins with one hand while
By JOAN
?lea'r vievtek
Mr. Rickey Boy cocks his head from
side to side as I sit here at the table writing. He is listening for my voice, and
when I call to him he answers me with
what appears to be a smile and a friendly
whine.
He is on the patio, looking through the
screen door, begging to come in.
One of our friends remarked the other
day that Rickey has "such a noble face."
She noticed how his expressions change,
too. He can look very happy, or he can
growl and look very unpleasant.
Most of the time Mr. Rickey Boy looks
pleasant. I am glad for this, because it
would not be pleasant to have an unhappy dog about the place. And it is not
pleasant to have an unhappy teen-ager
18
around either. Anyone is beautiful if he
is cheerful and happy.
In the city of Paris there is a bank that
takes a picture of all the people who cash
checks at the cashier's window. The officers of the bank work on the theory that
honest people—good people—show their
character in their faces.
In an old scrapbook of my mother's
I found this quotation: "Don't ever forget that your face reflects the real you.
No matter what you may try to hide in
your heart that you do not wish the world
to know, it is written—indelibly written
—upon your face."
Not long ago I met two women who
had been friends for years. For some
reason they both had very "mad" looks on
their faces most of the time. I hadn't paid
any attention to them particularly until
someone remarked one day, "My, I feel
combing with the other. Good thing my
dress didn't have buttons all down the
back! I was out into the living room ready
to greet them just after they entered the
room. Fortunately my husband and the
mission director met them at the car and
escorted them in.
We went with them in their car while
we made an inspection of the mission. The
mission director, H. W. Stevenson; the
principal of the school, R. Jackson; and
the manager of our press, A. Tyson-Flyn,
showed them their respective departments,
after which we took them to see the leper
colony and hospital. How the laboratory
at the leper colony shone! It looked more
like a dining room than a laboratory, with
the white cloths they had placed on the
tables and all the bouquets of flowers.
Never mind that none of the bottles holding the flowers had water in them.
The governor and his lady were amazed
when shown one family (a mother with
her three children), all with dreadfullooking nodules over face and arms, to
hear that we expected to cure them all.
Leprosy is not the dreaded disease it once
was. We hoped, as they were leaving, that
we had not made the same mistake as
Hezekiah, but that we had given them a
vision of what God can do.
so sorry for Mrs. L---. She must be the
most unhappy person in the world. I have
never seen her when she looked really
happy and pleasant. If we knew the story
of her life, we would no doubt hear a sad
one."
Well, I never did hear the story of
Mrs. L---'s life, but undoubtedly her
unhappiness affected the life of her
friend, who also appeared frustrated and
cross most of the time.
Vainly do we work to gain life's bounties by bitterness and unhappiness. Cheerfulness, kindness, and cordiality are cultivated. We have to learn from example
or hard study how to become outgoing,
giving, happy people.
And now for another quote for your
treasured pages, my Diary.
"As you think, you travel, and as you
love, you attract.
"You are today where your thoughts
have brought you; you will be tomorrow
where your thoughts take you. You cannot escape the results of your thoughts.
. . . You will realize the vision (not the
idle wish) of your heart, be it base or
beautiful, or a mixture of both, for you
will gravitate toward that which you,
secretly, most love."
My conclusion is that if I love people
and am kind, I will automatically gravitate toward love. If I wish to be selfish
and unkind, I will naturally gravitate
toward selfishness and unkindness.
THE V.:takt INSTRUCTOR
IR A
OF
0
T WAS a cool fall morning on the
farm, and everyone was rushing
around with his morning chores.
This was the opening day of the
county fair, and we were going to take
our exhibits to compete with the other
farm youth of the county. We had worked
hard all summer growing crops and caring for livestock that we planned to take
to the fair. There would be many fine
exhibits, because the 4-H Club members
were really interested in winning firstprize ribbons and cash prizes, but they
deeply enjoyed the satisfaction of knowing they had succeeded in completing their
projects. This satisfaction was worth the
long hours of hard work they had spent
in preparing their exhibits.
Although everyone was hurrying to get
the chores done and the last-minute preparations made, I could not refrain from
spending a few extra minutes brushing
the Hereford calf I had been fattening for
the livestock show. Creeping through the
excitement of what the day held in store
were the memories of the past years and
the knowledge of the fact that this would
be the last county fair I would be able
to participate in as a 4-H Club exhibitor.
I could remember the day that I was old
enough to join the club and how excited I
had been at the prospect of raising some
livestock of my own, and of raising my
own crops to exhibit in the contests that
were sponsored by the club. This had
been eight years ago, but it seemed only
a short time, until I thought of all that
had happened in the meantime and the
many advancements I had made.
It was the purpose of the 4-H Club and
the objective of the leaders to train me
and other farm boys and girls to fulfill
the meaning of the club's motto, which
is "To make the best better." They also
taught us that the four H's on the 4-H
Club emblem stand for the equal training
of the head, heart, hands, and health of
every member. We also pledged our heads
W. M. C.
MA PARK ,
4-H CLUB
EXHIBITOR
By HAROLD FEIKES
to better thinking, our hearts to greater
loyalty, our hands to greater service, and
our health to better living for our God,
our community, and our country—a
pledge that, if taken seriously, can lead to
much higher and better standards of living.
Of course, during the first part of my
4-H Club experience I could not engage
in some of the larger projects, such as
crop raising and livestock production, but
there were many other activities in which
I could participate. The club sponsored
timely topic and team-demonstration contests. This gave the younger members opportunity to learn to express themselves
before groups of people. The club also
sponsored health contests and stressed the
practice of good health habits. This encouragement from an outside source was
very influential in the home, and the principles and practices that were learned and
put into use became habits that have remained steadfast in our lives.
Because the most convenient place for
the youth to meet for their 4-H Club
meetings was the school, the club became
part of the school's activities. The teachers assisted the county supervisors in the
training of club members. They were in
more or less constant contact with us, but
it would have been impossible for the
county leaders to visit all the members individually and help us with our projects.
And because there were so many members
who wished to enter the different contests,
preliminary contests were held in the
schools, and the winners of these would go
to the county and State contests to compete
with the winners from other schools. Then
the winners of the county and State contests would compete in the national contest with the winners from other States. By
this means of elimination each member
was given an incentive to work, with
ample reward for his efforts.
Time passed swiftly, however, and the
knowledge that I gained from my early
experience began to lead into bigger and
better things. As I stood brushing the
calf, I could remember the first time I
To page 21
EWING GALLOWAY
AUGUST 31, 1954
19
HOOKY
Backfires
By GEORGE S. ASHLOCK
H. M. LAMBERT
The announcement that there would be school on Sunday was certainly not welcome to Bill. That was the day he had been planning to go to the air show.
AY, Bill, there's going to be an air
show next Sunday. Have you
heard about it?" asked Glenn.
"Heard about it? Why, I've
been planning on going ever since I first
heard about it. I've even been dreaming
about the planes flying in formation, the
stunts they will perform before the grandstands, and the large crowd that will
gather there next Sunday," exclaimed
Bill, full of enthusiasm.
The conversation took place during one
of the dull moments of a ball game played
on the church school playground. It wasn't
long before the bell had rung, calling Bill
and Glenn and the other eighth graders
back to their room.
Just before school was dismissed that
afternoon the teacher announced with
exactness: "There will be an extra day of
school this next Sunday. Don't forget that
we will have school then, instead of a day
of vacation."
This announcement was certainly not
welcome to Bill. Inside of him there arose
a great turmoil of what to do about this
shocking announcement. The very event
he had awaited these many weeks had to
come on a Sunday, when he was supposed
to be in school. This would spoil all his
plans for the air show. Momentarily Bill's
enthusiasm was dampened.
"Well, how did you like that announcement? I guess you won't be seeing any
air show this Sunday after all, Bill,"
taunted Glenn as the boys walked across
the playground toward their homes. But
Bill just grinned slyly and formulated to
himself a plan of what he would do. Yes,
S
20
he had a plan, one he thought that would
really be fun.
From Friday afternoon until Sunday
morning, when Bill arose rather early, he
could think of nothing but the air show.
His mother noticed that something was
bothering him at breakfast Sunday.
"What's wrong with you this morning,
Bill?" asked Mother.
"Oh, nothing," said Bill with a shrug
of the shoulder, seeking to hide his true
thoughts. After finishing his breakfast in
a shorter time than usual, out the door he
went, still preoccupied.
It was lucky for Bill (or so he thought)
that his mother knew nothing about this
special day of school. Therefore he had no
parental persuasion to attend school. He
had already formulated in his mind that
he was not going to attend school this
Sunday. Not this Sunday! After all,
wasn't the air show much more important?
Now, since Bill was just in the eighth
grade and did not receive enough money
to pay bus fare to the air show, he would
have to find another method of traveling.
As he walked through the college community from his home, he hoped to avoid
any students or parents who knew about
the special day of school. He well knew
what would happen if they should meet.
Questions, questions, and more questions
would be about all he would hear from
them.
Successfully he had eluded all questioners, and finally reaching the main
highway, he began to thumb a ride. Traffic
was good today, thought Bill, as he walked
casually along the roadside, stopping every
once in a while to turn about and cast out
his thumb before the oncoming cars.
None, however, seemed to pay much attention to him. After getting about a
quarter of a mile down the road he was
tired, tired of waiting, walking, and hitchhiking. He almost wished he had gone
to school. But this feeling soon passed
away when the next group of cars approached him.
Expectantly Bill jerked out his thumb.
Suddenly he recognized the people in the
first car. And even more old friends were
in the second, third, and also the fourth
cars too. What could this be? These were
classmates from his own eighth grade
room! They were supposed to be in school
at that very moment. This was not a
dream; it was real! As they passed they
shouted, "See you at the air show, Bill."
After they had passed by and gone out
of sight over the hill, Bill began to realize
what was happening. Here this special
day of school really was a blessing in disguise; for the whole schoolroom, except
Bill, had gone in special cars to attend the
very air show he had skipped school to
attend.
It's always a good idea to be where you
are supposed to be. I can't guarantee that
you will enjoy every school day as did
these children at the air show, but at
least you won't have a plan for hooky
backfire!
Bill did get to the air show; but he was
late when he arrived, much too late to
enjoy the most sensational and spectacular
stunts of the whole air show.
THE 'tietrZI INSTRUCTOR
We Take to the Road
From page 8
Umbundus do. These Chokwees have
adopted the method of making corn
whisky that was taught to the Umbundus
by a church cleric. This man, who set
Angola afire with his method of distilling
drink from corn, came to our mission at
Bongo not very long ago to be treated for
a sick liver.
During the first world war he found it
hard to get his hard liquor from home, so
he taught a native to distill the corn into
liquor. This man taught another, and so
on, until there is someone in every small
settlement and native village who makes
and sells this soul-killing drink. All the
good that the missionaries of today teach
cannot undo the evil taught by one selfish
man.
[This is the second installment of a six-part serial.
Part 3 will appear next week.]
Heaven's Beauty
Contest
From page 11
of beauty left except her blond hair,
which lay against the white pillow, still
falling into the nearly perfect waves she
had placed there before she was stricken.
The one person whose beauty I had
admired was now the most imperfect in
looks of anyone I had ever seen. Upon her
casket sat a photograph portraying the
once-beautiful girl, and but few of those
in attendance at her funeral knew how
marred that beauty had become in so
short a time.
Nothing could have impressed me more
with the truth of Solomon's words when
he wrote, "Favour is deceitful, and beauty
is vain"; and how glad I am that he
added, "but a woman that feareth the
Lord, she shall be praised." I am also reminded of what David said about God's
punishment for us when we think too
much of our own beauty: "When thou
with rebukes dost correct man for iniquity,
thou makest his beauty to consume away
like a moth."
Beauty of character is the only beauty
that counts. With this possession we can
all be beautiful, and we can all win God's
beauty contest. We are striving every day,
if we are Christians, to become Christlike
in character. It was the beauty of His
character that made Jesus the perfect man
that He was here on earth.
Perhaps Christ would not be considered
handsome if He were in the world today,
for it is written of Him, "He hath no
form nor comeliness• and when we shall
see him, there is no beauty
'
that we should
desire him." Yet we are anxious to become more like Him. He is our pattern,
our ideal. It is not outward looks and
beauty, but character that makes Him our
AUGUST 31, 1954
standard of righteous living. He was
without sin. There are more than twentyfive adjectives in the Scriptures describing
the character of Christ, and all are such
words as these: holy, just, righteous, good,
loving, and kind.
There is a deceptive theory infiltrating
the religious world today that Christ was
only another man, and that, although He
was a good man, He was no different
from any other great man, such as George
Washington or Abraham Lincoln, for
instance. But the reason for this theory is
very obvious to me. Many times I have
gone into a strange place where I knew
no one. At first everyone looked somewhat
the same to me, and as nearly as I could
discern, one was no different from another. Then I became acquainted with the
people, and the better I knew them, the
009103044.51
Isolate.—If you could stand on the top
of Table Mountain, Cape Town, South
Africa, and look northwestward over
Table Bay, you would see Robben Island
apparently floating in the silvery Atlantic
a few miles from shore. An island, of
course, is a body of land completely surrounded by water. This fact helps us to
understand the origin of the word isolate,
which comes from the Italian isolato,
meaning "detached, separated," and
isola, "an island," and the Latin insula,
"an island." Surprisingly enough, isolate
is a comparatively new word, since as
recently as 1800 it was censured by Todd
as being a "novel and unnecessary word."
&MP/Aja By NATHANIEL KRUM OalMbr
more clearly I could see their traits of
character. Many times the ones I at first
thought unattractive became my most
admired and cherished friends.
What made this difference? Was it the
outward appearance? No. It was something coming from within, something
deeper than the eye could see, that
changed my mind. My closer acquaintance
with those persons revealed their true
personality, and forgetting their looks, I
desired to be with them more and more.
So it is with Christ. If we know Him
we will not think of Him as just another
man, but He will become more beautiful
to us, and we will desire to be with Him
and be more like Him. Anyone who says
that Christ was just another man is giving
his testimony that he has never known
Him:
A friend of mine who had just come
from college surprised me with this question, "Have you ever noticed that many
couples who are married look alike, and
that others who are just friends or chums
also many times resemble each other?"
This gave me something to think about,
and I have since observed that many
married couples do look alike, and that
they resemble each other more as the
years go by. Of course this has taken place
gradually. By beholding we become
changed. If this is true of our earthly associations, how much more true it can
be of our heavenly associations. And it is
proof that we can be beautiful, for our
character changes our very looks.
It is not our smooth, clear complexion,
then, nor our expressive eyes, or lustrous
golden hair that decides the contest in
God's sight, but it is the beauty of holiness, which lies beneath all of these. Anyone can win God's beauty contest if he
has Christ as his ideal of beauty. And if
he develops a Christlike character, he is
bound to reflect that beauty.
If we do not yet have the beauty which
God expects in us, we must begin to study
the pattern He has given us more closely
and become better acquainted with that
One who is our example. If we live and
commune with Him daily, we will become changed into His likeness, and continue to live with Him throughout
eternity, which is the reward supreme for
those who win God's beauty contest.
Not by Sight
From page 13
She buried her face in the baby's soft
golden curls, and the twins clung to one
of her hands as they knelt with the rest
of the family beside her bed.
After they were all gone the sky faded
to pink, the pink into night, and as she
lay there a clear cry came from above:
"Margaret, it is growing dark. Let down
your anchor and take a little sleep while
you wait for the morning!"
The sweet old voyager is still taking
that sleep; but the time is soon coming
when sunlight will shine across that sea,
and she will awaken to find that her ship
is riding safely at anchor; that the Pilot
whom she trusted so implicitly on the
long voyage has brought her into her desired haven.
4-H Club Exhibitor
From page 19
enrolled in a real livestock project and
was able to get a calf of my own. I had
been very proud of my first calf, but I
'was equally proud of each one after that;
and as I cared for the one I had now, I
deeply regretted the thought of not being
able to repeat the experience. As I had
learned better methods of feeding and
caring for the calves, naturally I was more
successful each time, until now I was sure
that I would have one of the best animals
in the contest.
21
IIAAI LNJt
*MAMA.
STANLEY HALL
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THE€14,fft'd INSTRUCTOR
The morning passed rapidly. Everything was finally ready, and we were on
our way. As we traveled along with our
load of exhibits, I thought of the many
other trips I had been able to take because
of the 4-H Club work. Many times the
award for winning a certain type of contest was a trip to some famous place or
to a convention. At such conventions we
met other 4-H Club members who had
been winners of similar contests held in
their own respective communities. Contests were held at the conventions, and
we were also able to associate with the
4-H members from other places. We could
exchange ideas and practices that were
used in the different places and perhaps
take new ideas and methods home with
us and use them on our own farms.
I recalled one trip in particular. It was
to the International 4-H Club Congress,
which is held in Chicago, Illinois, each
year. At this congress members from all
over the world gather to hold their final
and most important contest in the various
fields of their work. They also have many
meetings and discuss problems of youth
in the various States and countries. They
exchange experiences and make suggest
tions for different and better ways of
promoting club work.
I could remember the excitement that
had leaped into my heart when it was
announced that my teammate and I had
won first place with our livestock loss
prevention team demonstration and that
we would represent our State in the national contest held in Chicago. A trip to
the International 4-H Congress is the
high light of any club member's experience, and we had succeeded in winning
this trip.
Even though we did well in the contest
by winning a place in the blue ribbon
group, which was composed of the three
best teams in the contest, I did not consider that the most important accomplishment of the trip. I felt that the opportunity
to meet young people from all over the
world and talk with them was of real
importance. I also gained a better understanding of how to get along with strange
people in a strange place, because there
were several thousand young people there,
and I knew very few of them. It was my
first visit to a large city like Chicago, and
I had a great deal to learn. There were
many other benefits that I received from
this trip. We were taken on tours of famous places and through factories that
were transforming farm products into all
types of manufactured materials. These,
of course, were very interesting and educational. The congress lasted for more than
a week, and each day was packed with
new experiences that will remain with
me for the rest of my life.
Of course when I returned to my home
community the other 4-H Club members,
who had not been so fortunate as I, expected me to share with them the experiences I had had at the congress. This
AUGUST 31, 1954
UNDERGROUND
FRONTIER
The story of what has been called the most extensive cave
exploration ever attempted. Author J. Bernard Wilt, on the
right in the picture, was the only Seventh-day Adventist
member of the expedition.
IN THE elce,(4d INSTRUCTOR NEXT WEEK
relating of my experiences was really a
personal help, because it made me better
able to express myself before groups of
people.
There were many other trips connected
with my 4-H Club experiences that I enjoyed very much, also many other awards
that I received as a result of hard work.
As I grew older and more experienced in
the work, I became a leader and was able
to teach the younger members the beginning fundamentals of the 4-H Club, the
meaning of the 4-H motto and pledge. I
could also show them the results of hard
work and the profits gained from earnest
effort.
As I recalled all of these pleasant memories I regretted more and more that I
would not be able to take part in the 4-H
Club work much longer. However, there
was one more award in store for me at
this time that I did not know about. I was
to be offered a scholarship to Oklahoma
Agricultural Mechanical College, which
is one of the best agricultural colleges in
the United States. But because I had
planned ever since I could remember to
be a doctor, I decided to come to a
Seventh-day Adventist college for my premedical education. I am happy about my
achievements in 4-H Club work and
1C3CCIEIDKVIEWIESICIEW341CSIEWSCIE
7ede
7244e
By Harvey Hansen
At the end of day the tide of night
Drowns the valley from the sight,
And over the hillside rising high,
It floods the earth and fills the skyl
IMIESEWIEVCWICSICSICIEMSICIEVV*
would not part with the experience I received. It was not my privilege to live in
a district where there was an active Missionary Volunteer Society, but I like to
compare the 4-H Club with this organization. Both are for the development of
good character in young people. Both organizations set forth sound principles, and
it is their aim to develop citizens and
leaders who will be able to face the problems of the future and solve them in a
God-fearing manner.
MV Youth in Action
From page 6
shoulders of young people. These youth
not only gave their time and energies but
also paid fifteen shillings each to keep
costs down, so that more juniors could
attend.
The youthful superintendent was Arthur
Patrick, a theological student, who has
dedicated his life to youth evangelism. He
was assisted by a business graduate, an
enthusiastic ministerial student, and a
teacher trainee, while two young women
in the Bible instructor's course capably
managed the kitchen.
Outdoor recreation included games,
bush tracking, and swimming. Classwork
in animal study was taught by Miss V.
Flanigan. The spiritual life of each
camper was influenced by the early morning prayer bands and by the devotional
meetings, designed to capture the interest
of junior youth. These services were conducted by L. A. Dyason, K. J. Wooler, and
Desmond B. Hills.
The Master Guides and students at
Avondale have caught a vision to save the
junior youth for the Man of Galilee. Our
method is personally to enlist them in
Junior Missionary Volunteer and Pathfinder societies, and through these satisfying activities point them to Christ.
23
▪ TAKING the temperature of patients in a
Granite City, Illinois, hospital was a real
problem during one of this summer's heat
waves. When the temperature in the rooms
went up to 105 degrees, the clinical thermometers all registered the room temperature. Since this type of thermometer maintains its reading until it is shaken down,
nurses had to resort to a number of devices
to get an accurate temperature reading. One
nurse ran cool water over a thermometer
and cooled it to 98 degrees, but it climbed to
105 before she could get it into the patient's
mouth. Finally hospital officials devised a
plan of using glasses of ice water to keep the
thermometers cool until just before the temperature was to be taken.
... AN AMATEUR astronomer of Ipswich,
England, has had a crater on the moon
named for him. He is Ronald Clarkson.
IF THE annual wood crop of the United
States were made into one-inch boards one
foot in width, these boards would circle the
earth 379 times, according to current estimates.
▪ A CROW recently made a flight to Frankfurt, Germany, by mistake. It was supposed
to go to Frankfort, Kentucky. However, it
was not the crow that made the mistake. It
was in a crate and had been placed on the
wrong airplane.
▪ A LARGE collection of bronze weapons and
jewelry, believed to date from about 600 Lc.,
was unearthed recently in southeastern Norway. The curator of Oslo University's archeological museum reports that the find is one
of the largest made in many years.
▪ POLICEMEN of Lakeland, Florida, are beginning to use bicycles on their beats in the
belief that they can make their rounds more
quickly and cover wider areas. Equipped
with two-way radios, the bicycles are silent,
and the approach of the officers is not noticed,
according to Police Chief Leo Brooker.
• THE American Geographical Society has
an expedition in South America studying
the highways of the Incas. Victor von Hagen,
director of the expedition, reports that the
Inca Highways were at one time the finest
communication system devised by man anywhere. There were two main highways—
the mountain road which began in what is
now Colombia, ran through Ecuador, Peru,
and Bolivia and split to reach into modern-day
Argentina and Chile, a total distance of
2,700 miles; and also the coastal highway
which began three degrees south of the
equator and crossed the entire desert coast
for 2,400 miles into Chile. In addition there
was an intricate system of secondary routes—
the crossroads that connected the two main
trunks at various parts of the empire. These
highways were constructed in a straight
line going through and over obstacles, not
around them. Coming down from the high
mountains, these highways appeared like
enormous stone stairways.
24
▪ FOR 75 years a chemical called coumarin
has been used as an ingredient of synthetic vanilla. Within the last year it has been taken
from the market, because tests showed that
it caused liver damage in laboratory animals.
The Food and Drug Administration of the
U.S. has banned this same chemical from
chocolate, in which it has been permitted for
many years. Another product, dulcin, an artificial sweetener, has been found to be poisonous and is being taken from the market also.
• A COMMERCIAL airliner recently made the
flight from Washington, D.C., to Los Angeles, California, in 6 hours and 51 minutes.
Ideal tail winds were held accountable for
the fast flight. Usual time is about 7 hours
and 30 minutes, although the schedule calls
for 8 hours and 10 minutes. The plane, operated by American Airlines, was a Douglas
DC-7.
• THE Connecticut Agricultural Experiment Station has a freak type of corn that
grows along the ground like a vine instead of
standing upright. It was developed by Dr.
Donald F. Jones, chief geneticist, who calls
it "lazy" corn.
• As ONE of their recent projects the Girl
Guides of Great Britain have endowed a
kennel and four beds at the Training Center of the Guide Dogs for the Blind Association at Exeter, England.
▪ LAST year's production of walnuts in the
Mediterranean basin and in the United States
was the smallest in 10 years—just under
100,000 tons.
IN THE 1890's there were 150 bicycle
manufacturers in the United States. Now,
says the Washington Star, there are 10.
THE area drained by the Mississippi River
system comprises the greatest fertile plain on
the earth.
A RECENT study based on life-insurance
records indicates that persons who survive
a cancer operation by several years have an
encouraging life expectancy.
▪ THE Los Angeles metropolitan area has
more automobiles per capita than any other—
five cars for every four families, or a total
of 2.1 million, according to the National
Geographic Society.
DOGS in Watertown, New York, are allowed to begin their barking or howling
one hour earlier now. Previously a town ordinance stipulated that between 11 P.M. and 8
A.M. dogs must be kept from disturbing the
neighbors. Recently the town council voted
an amendment to this ordinance, moving the
morning curfew back to 7 A.M.
... VIOLENT ringing of the bell of an Atlanta,
Georgia, church proved to be the work of
lightning, and the lightning set the 93-yearold structure on fire. The pastor of the historic Bethsaida Baptist church, summoned by
the bell, called the fire department, but the
building could not be saved. Built of pegged,
hand-hewn timbers, the church dated to 1861
and had served as barracks for General
Sherman's troops during the Civil War.
CANADA'S Northwest Territories is served
by six noncommercial radio stations. CFYK,
in Yellowknife, is typical. Although its
equipment is provided by the Royal Canadian
Signal Corps and its records and tape recordings by the Canadian Broadcasting Company, it provides a service that is often
haphazard and amateurish. Teen-agers,
housewives, miners, and businessmen take
turns acting as announcers. The station has
no scheduled programs, no paid announcers,
no permanent staff. It has few bills. Breakdowns or mix-ups are fairly frequent, but the
people are devoted to their own Voice of
the Golden North, as the station is known.
... CRANE CO., manufacturer of a wide
variety of industrial and home products, is
planning to open a $25 million titanium ore
processing plant at Chattanooga, Tennessee,
next year. Dedication ceremonies for this
event will coincide with the 100th anniversary of the company. Its history goes
back to July 4, 1855, when Richard Teller
Crane opened a little foundry in a one-room
frirne building that he built himself on one
corner of his uncle's Chicago lumberyard.
His first castings were tips and couplings for
lightning rods. Today, Crane Company's
products range from gate valves as big as a
door to electronic transistors no larger than
a thumbnail. This company is considered to
be the largest producer of valves and fittings
in the world.
Science News Letter asks a penetrating question: "Will today's generation of young adults find, when they reach the 50-to-70 age
bracket, that they have been slowly poisoning themselves and cutting one to five years off their lives because of the food they have eaten?"
No one knows the answer for sure, but when a long-used chemical like coumarin
is banned because of its potential danger to the liver, we begin to wonder: Will other
widely used chemicals prove harmful too?
Too many of us are blindly feeding upon "unwholesome food [that] destroys the
healthy action of the digestive organs, affects the brain, and perverts the judgment,
preventing rational, calm, healthy thinking and acting." We can best honor Christ
in the care we give our body temple by eating simple, wholesome, home-prepared foods.
DON YOST
THE tJar.4 INSTRUCTOR