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    GOD, care of

    George Muller (1805-1898) built many orphanages at Ashley Down, England. Without a personal salary, he relied only on God to supply the money and food needed to support the hundreds of homeless children he befriended in the name of Christ. A man of radiant faith, he kept a motto on his desk for many years that brought comfort, strength, and uplifting confidence to his heart. It read, "It matters to Him about you." Muller believed that those words captured the meaning of 1 Peter 5:7, and he rested his claim for divine help on that truth. He testified at the end of his life that the Lord had never failed to supply all his needs.

    Unknown.


    A little boy was eagerly looking forward to the birthday party of a friend who lived only a few blocks away. When the day finally arrived, a blizzard made the sidewalks and roads nearly impassable. The lad's father, sensing the danger, hesitated to let his son go. The youngster reacted tearfully. "But Dad," he pleaded, "all the other kids will be there. Their parents are letting them go." The father thought for a moment, then replied softly, "All right, you may go." Surprised but overjoyed, the boy bundled up and plunged into the raging storm. The driving snow made visibility almost impossible, and it took him more than half an hour to trudge the short distance to the party. As he rang the doorbell, he turned briefly to look out into the storm. His eye caught the shadow of a retreating figure. It was his father. He had followed his son's every step to make sure he arrived safely.

    Unknown.


    A construction crew was building a new road through a rural area, knocking down trees as it progressed. A superintendent noticed that one tree had a nest of birds who couldn't yet fly and he marked the tree so that it would not be cut down. Several weeks later the superintendent came back to the tree. He got into a bucket truck and was lifted up so that he could peer into the nest. The fledglings were gone. They had obviously learned to fly. The superintendent ordered the tree cut down. As the tree crashed to the ground, the nest fell clear and some of the material that the birds had gathered to make the nest was scattered about. Part of it was a scrap torn from a Sunday school pamphlet. On the scrap of paper were these words: He careth for you.

    Bits &  Pieces, November, 1989, p. 23.


    Poetry

    Be not troubled with thoughts of the morrow,
    Of duties you surely must do.
    On the Lord cast your burden of sorrow;
    It matters to Him about you!

    Be not weary when trials are given,
    But trust Him to carry you through.
    He will make all a pathway to heaven;
    It matters to Him about you!

    Then be patient until His appearing,
    'Tis dawn almost now on your view;
    For the mists of this dark age are clearing.
    In love He is planning for you!

    Audrey Mieir.


    Once on a time a paper kite
    Was mounted to a wondrous height,
    Where, giddy with its elevation,
    It thus express'd self-admiration:
    "See how yon crowds of gazing people
    Admire my flight above the steeple;
    How would they wonder if they knew
    All that a kite like me can do!
    Were I but free, I'd take a flight,
    And pierce the clouds beyond their sight,
    But, ah! like a poor pris'ner bound,
    My string confines me near the ground;
    I'd brave the eagle's towring wing,
    Might I but fly without a string."
    It tugg'd and pull'd, while thus it spoke,
    To break the string--at last it broke.
    Depriv'd at once of all its stay,
    In vain it try'd to soar away;
    Unable its own weight to bear,
    It flutter'd downward through the air;
    Unable its own course to guide,
    The winds soon plung'd it in the tide.
    Ah! foolish kite, thou hadst no wing,
    How could'st thou fly without a string!
    My heart reply'd, "O Lord, I see
    How much this kite resembles me!
    Forgetful that by thee I stand,
    Impatient of thy ruling hand;
    How oft I've wish'd to break the lines
    Thy wisdom for my lot assigns?
    How oft indulg'd a vain desire
    For something more, or something high'r?
    And, but for grace and love divine,
    A fall thus dreadful had been mine."

    John Newton.