Stories from Heaven's Library - Vol. 26
For Young & Old
Featuring:
Dora and the Garden
Farmer Jones' Barn
The Magic Rose
DORA AND THE GARDEN
There was once a ten-year-old girl named Dora. When she was little, she was always a big help and inspiration to everyone by smiling and being cheerful, making the babies happy, singing a pretty song, or helping Mommy with the laundry and cleaning up. Everyone would always compliment her on what a blessing she was and how they enjoyed being around her.
But now she felt something strange happening to her. She was often grumpy and couldn't even explain why. It wasn't fun to make the babies laugh anymore and she didn't feel like taking the time to help around the home or clean up after herself. She also began to realize that people didn't give her as many compliments as before, and so she figured that she had just gotten ugly somehow. So she decided that she wasn't going to try to look nice and dress nice anymore because she wasn't cute anymore--what was the use? Poor Dora!
One night, while lying in bed thinking over all these things, she began to cry. She wished she could go back to being a sweet little girl again, and have all the people love her like before. Just then she thought she heard a voice. "Pray! Jesus can help you!" She sat up in her bed and switched on her night light. There was no one else in the room. Dora looked a little puzzled as she sank back down on her pillow.
As soon as she had closed her eyes, she heard the voice again. "Go ahead, pray! Jesus will answer you!"
Dora shot up from her pillow. "Who is that?" she demanded. "Are you trying to tease me?" She looked all around the room, trying to figure out where the mysterious voice had come from, but again found nothing out of the ordinary. Puzzled, she lay back down. Maybe I'd better do what the voice says! Maybe I'd better pray!
It had been a long time since she had prayed all alone like this. When she was younger, she used to love to snuggle up in her bed after her goodnight kiss to Mommy and Daddy, and talk to Jesus, whom she had considered her Best Friend. But when she turned ten, she had begun thinking that it was too childish, and she stopped having such conversations with Him.
But on this particular night, Dora suddenly felt like she desperately needed someone to talk to, someone who could really understand her, someone to explain things to her and help her. She needed her Best Friend. She needed Jesus. So she started to pray.
"Dear Jesus, I really need You. I'm sorry I stopped being friends with You. Please help me to understand what has happened to me and why people don't like me anymore. Why am I so unhappy all the time? Please, Jesus ..." A peaceful feeling suddenly came over her, and her eyelids grew heavy and began to close. She was drifting off to sleep. ...
When she woke up, she found herself in a garden. The little wall that surrounded the garden looked as if it could have been very pretty at one time, but now it was crumbling in some spots and completely broken down in others. The pathways and flowerbeds were completely overgrown with weeds--this garden had obviously not been tended to in a long time. Dora, who loved gardens, flowers, and plants herself, wondered aloud, "Why doesn't anybody take care of this garden?"
"That's what I'd like to know too!" said a spunky little voice behind her. She spun around to see who it was, but no one was there. She looked back the other way and heard the voice say again, "But you ought to know why this is your garden!"
Dora spun around and looked straight in the direction she had heard the voice coming from, but still didn't see anyone. "Who's there?" she demanded. "Where are you hiding?"
"I'm not hiding," answered the voice. "I'm right here in front of you."
Dora looked down to see a rose bush, almost totally covered with weeds that seemed to be trying to choke out the bush. A single, pale-pink rose caught Dora's attention. No, roses can't talk. It couldn't be the rose could it? she thought to herself. She knelt down for a closer look at the rose, and it was then that she noticed that the little rose had a smiling face, and it was looking right at her! She rubbed her eyes and then took another look, still not sure whether she could believe what her eyes were telling her.
"Don't worry, Dora. This is just a dream. A lot of unusual things can happen in dreams, you know!"
Dora stood speechless for a moment, but then found the courage to answer. "This is a dream, you say? But it seems so real!"
The rose looked thoughtful as she answered, "Maybe because dreams can sometimes be a reflection of reality. Maybe that's why it seems so real to you."
"Oh!" said Dora, suddenly remembering that the rose had told her that this was her garden to take care of.
"This garden must have been very beautiful once," she said, hoping that the rose would explain more about it.
"Oh yes!" said the rose enthusiastically, "It was lovely! Mothers would bring their children to play here and grandmothers and grandfathers would come and sit on the benches to enjoy the sight of the happy children playing among the flowers. The bees would come to suck the sweet nectar from flowers, and the butterflies would flutter here and there, looking like flying flowers themselves. There were geraniums, daisies and chrysanthemums, azaleas and roses of all different colors and sizes. My bush was the biggest, and everybody would pass by to smell the beautiful perfume that me and my brothers and sisters gave off."
The rose suddenly looked sad and Dora thought she could see a tear rolling down one of its petals. "But now no one wants to come here anymore because all the flowers are dead--and I will soon be gone too." The rose's poor faded petals hung noticeably lower.
Dora suddenly became very alarmed. "No! No!" she said, "I'll help you! You won't die! You mustn't die! Please, tell me what I can do to help!" The rose looked up, relieved and hopeful.
"You have to pull out some of these weeds that are growing all around me. They are encumbering* the ground, and stealing the nutrition from the soil around me," said the rose weakly.
"Sure!" said Dora, grabbing hold of some of the weeds and pulling with all her might. But when she looked in her hand, all she held was a bunch of leaves and a bit of stem.
"No, not like that," said the rose patiently. "You have to take hold of the stem near to the ground and then pull. If you don't pull them out by the roots, the weeds will grow back."
"Oh, I understand," said Dora. She tried again, grabbing the bottom of the stems right near the earth, and pulling with all her might.--Out came a large, ugly weed, with roots and all. But, how strange! Just as Dora pulled the weed out of the ground, she felt a sharp pain in her chest.
"Ow!" she cried out, rubbing the spot with her fist. Then she leaned over and grabbed another bunch of weeds, and gave a big yank. Again the weeds were pulled out by the roots, and again Dora felt the pain in her chest.
"Ow!" she cried again, this time rubbing her chest with the palms of both hands. After a minute, she grit her teeth and determinedly laid both hands on an even bigger clump of weeds and tugged so hard that she fell over backwards as the roots gave way in her hand.
"Ouch!" she said even louder, rubbing both her bottom and her chest at the same time. The rose had been silently watching all this time. Dora was looking up at the rose with a puzzled and pained look on her face, as if to say: What's happening? I thought I was doing the right thing?
The rose looked sympathetically down at her. "You have to realize that it costs something to do the right thing. It takes effort and sometimes it hurts. But don't worry, you'll be glad when you see how much better and more beautiful the garden will look afterwards."
Just then a bright ray of sunshine broke through the clouds overhead, and shone right in Dora's face. She squinted her eyes in the bright light, and shut them for a moment. When she opened them again, she found herself back in bed, rubbing her eyes as a bright ray of sunshine shone through the window.
"Time to get up, sleepy head," her mom was calling cheerfully. "You'll be late for breakfast!"
During school that morning, Dora didn't pay much attention. Her thoughts kept wandering back to the garden and her conversation with the rose. She wished she could go back there and work some more on the garden, and see what other flowers she could nurse back to life.
Then she hesitated--she remembered how much it had hurt her chest every time she pulled out those weeds. After thinking about it for a long time, she finally decided that she really did want to save the rose--and the garden--and she was willing to do anything necessary to make the garden return to its former beauty. But wait! How could she do that? It was just a dream! Or was it? How could she find out if any of this was real or not? Just then she heard the same voice that she'd heard right before the dream. "Why don't you ask Jesus? He'll help you understand!"
Of course, thought Dora, I will!
That night Dora surprised her mom by getting ready for bed early.
"That's unlike you to want to go to bed early," said her mom, giving her an affectionate kiss on the forehead.
"I'd just like to go to bed early tonight, Mom. Good night!"
"Are you sure you're not getting sick? Do you feel all right, Honey?"
"I'm fine, just fine! I just want to spend some time talking to Jesus before falling asleep," she said, throwing her arms around her mother and giving her a big kiss, then running off to jump into bed. Now her mom was even more surprised. She couldn't remember when she had last seen Dora so cheerful.
"Goodnight, dear. It makes me happy to hear you say that," she said as she left the room.
Dora turned off the light, snuggled down in her bed and prayed.
"Dear Jesus, please! I want to know more about the garden and the rose. Please explain it to me! Please help me understand!" Just then she had a strong feeling that the dream had something to do with the question she had been asking Jesus the night before, about why she was so unhappy and why people didn't like her anymore. But this didn't help her understand the dream any better. If anything, it made her even more curious. So she prayed again, "Dear Jesus, please help me understand what the dream has to do with my question! Please, Jesus!"
Then she heard that mysterious voice again and this time it said, "This garden is the garden of your heart the garden of your heart the garden of " The words slowly faded away and Dora was fast asleep. She was thrilled to find that she was back in the garden again. Now I'll find out all about this mysterious garden, she thought excitedly. Then she remembered what the Voice had said as she fell asleep. This garden is the garden of my heart? she thought, a little puzzled. I know! I'll go ask the rose!
She ran over to the rose bush, and blurted out, "Can you tell me what it means, that this is the garden of my heart? I need to know!"
"Well, well," answered the rose. "Hello! It's nice to see you again. How are you?"
"I'm fine, thank you," Dora replied somewhat impatiently. The rose remained silent for a minute, and Dora suddenly realized that she hadn't even said "hello" yet. "Oh, I'm sorry. I just came barging in here, didn't I? I was just so excited, and curious to find out more about this garden. Please, can you tell me more?"
"Ah, I see that you are learning quickly," the rose said in a tone that showed she was quite pleased. "I'd be happy to tell you anything you wish to know."
Now it was Dora who was very pleased. She sat down comfortably on an old wooden bench right next to the rose bush and looked at the rose expectantly. "You were very unhappy," the rose began. "You asked Jesus why it was so, and why people no longer liked you, right?"
Dora nodded her head in agreement.
"Well," said the rose, "Jesus allowed you to come here so that you could see what condition the garden of your heart was in. Now you can see what needs to be done to make people like you again."
It seemed as if a light had turned on for Dora. "You mean that if I clean up my garden, people will like me again?"
The rose again smiled in her own pleased way. "Good!" she exclaimed, "You're beginning to understand! You had a good start last night by pulling a few weeds out. Already your mother was pleasantly surprised at the way you kissed her goodnight."
Now Dora had another question that puzzled her. "But why did it hurt my chest so much when I ripped the weeds out?" she asked.
"Ah," said the rose, "When you pulled out those weeds, did you notice how some of the soil was taken with it?"
Dora nodded her head.
"Well, just as it hurts the earth to have some of itself ripped out, so it hurts your heart to have those weeds pulled."
"Oh, I think I understand!" said Dora thoughtfully. "So the weeds are ..."
" the bad things you do and think, your sins and lacks, mistakes, and so on," the rose finished for her. "So if you try correcting these things in your everyday thoughts and behavior, then you will see how the weeds will disappear and the garden will become beautiful once again." Dora began to feel discouraged. "Oh my," she said, looking at the garden in such disarray. "How will I ever manage? There's so much to do, it will take me forever!"
"Come, come now. You don't have to do it alone, you know," the rose said soothingly. "You can ask your Best Friend."
Burrrrriing! Dora sat up in her bed with a start and pushed down the button that made the alarm clock stop ringing. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Oh, yes, that's right. I was in the garden there was something I had to do. Oh yes, I had to clean it up. Now I remember, but how do I
Then she remembered what the rose said about her Best Friend. I guess that means that I should ask Jesus to help me, she thought. And so she prayed, "Jesus, please help me to clean my garden today. Help me to be cheerful and a blessing to those around me." Just as she finished her prayer, a thought came to her that she should make her bed and clean up her room right away, instead of waiting until her Mom came to remind her as usual (and often ended up doing it herself). She got to work right away and soon the room was spick and span--and just in time, as she could hear her mother's footsteps coming up the stairs.
"Come on, Dora, you'll be late for breakfast if ..." Mom never finished the last word, because she was so surprised when she saw the room that she stopped in her tracks and stood there with her mouth hanging open.
"Why, you've cleaned your room! That's amazing--I mean, uh, wonderful!" stuttered her mom.
"I did it because I love you," said Dora, giving her mom a big hug and a kiss.
This is real fun, she thought, laughing to herself every time she remembered the amazed look on her mom's face. All day long, Dora tried to think up nice things to do for people to make them happy. She had a lot of fun when they all reacted in the same amazed way that her mom had that morning. After a while, she began to think about the difference her kindness and cheerful spirit seemed to make around the house. I never realized that my good or bad actions could affect others so much! Dora determined more than ever to have a real change and to become a new person.
That night she got ready for bed even earlier than the night before. She couldn't wait to see the garden and what effect her good deeds had had on it. She lay in her bed with her eyes squeezed shut, doing her best to try to fall asleep, but she couldn't seem to manage, no matter how hard she tried. Then she heard the same mysterious voice again, "If you want to go back to the garden, Jesus will take you there. All you have to do is ask."
Dora prayed right away, "Dear Jesus, please take me back to the garden. Please!"
Just then a peaceful feeling came over her. She almost felt as if she was being gently rocked back and forth. She began to relax and close her eyes. When she opened them again, she was sitting on an old rusty swing in the corner of the garden, directly across from the rose bush.
"Hello, Dora!"
Dora looked up to see the rose motioning with a leafy branch for her to come over.
"Look!" said the rose, in a pleased tone of voice, "There are no more weeds here to crowd me out! I'm so glad!"
Dora smiled. It was true. The little patch of ground around the rosebush was now entirely free from weeds. However, when she looked around the garden, she saw that everything else was still the same as it had been before.
"I thought that if I was a good girl, the garden would go back to being beautiful--but it didn't," she said, somewhat disappointed.
"Now, now," said the rose cheerfully, "You must realize that it took the garden a long time to get into this condition, and it will take some time to get it all beautiful again. Don't get discouraged, but keep making a little more progress every day."
"Isn't there anything I can do to make it happen faster?" asked Dora.
"Well," said the rose, "now that you mention it, yes, there is something you can do. Since the ground is quite hard, it makes it pretty difficult to pull the weeds out with the roots. You might try softening up the ground with some water."
"All right," said Dora. "But where do I get water? The fountain is all dried up."
"The best place to find water is directly from the source--God's Word," answered the rose. (See Isa.55:10,11.)
"Water in God's Word?" asked Dora, scratching her head in a puzzled way.
"Yes, my dear," said the rose. "Remember, this is the garden of your heart, and the only water that will soften the ground of your heart is the water of the Word of God. If you water your heart every day with the Word, it will be so much easier to pull out all those ugly weeds--and it will bring the flowers back to life."
Dora remembered how she used to love listening to her mom and dad read her Bible stories, but recently her interest had begun to wane and she didn't see the need to have devotions or read the Word herself. She would usually daydream when her parents read to her, and never stopped to read the Word on her own. Now, as she looked around the garden, she could see that the "water" of the Word was very important in her life. She felt a renewed desire to get back into the Word again. Eager to get started on watering the garden, she turned back to the rose.
"Can I wake up now, please? That way I'll have time to read before breakfast!"
"As you wish," said the rose politely. In a split second Dora found herself back in her bed. She looked at the clock; she still had half-an-hour before reveille. Good! she thought, I have to find some water right away. Let's see, what can I read? she thought as she jumped out of bed to head for the book closet.
She began to look through the books and finally found her old Picture Bible. She hugged it to her chest, ran and hopped into bed again, snuggled down and contentedly began to read by the light of her bedside lamp. There was so much she wanted to know and learn!
I'm going to read this whole Book! There are so many things I've never seen before! she thought to herself as she flipped through the pages, and finally turned back to the beginning. Thirty minutes later, when Dora's mom came to wake her up, she was again amazed to find Dora already awake. In fact, Dora was so completely absorbed in her reading that she didn't even notice her mother come in the door.
"Good morning, dear," said Mom, looking over to see what Dora was reading.
Dora looked up excitedly. "Oh, good morning, Mom. I woke up early so I decided to read some of God's Word."
"That's wonderful, Dora," Mom replied, more impressed than ever. "I usually read a little too before I get up in the morning. It makes my day go a lot better."
"It does?" asked Dora.
"Yes," said Mom, sitting on the bed beside her. "It's the best way to start the day. I also try to read the Word at night before I go to sleep. It helps me to relax."
"Can we read together sometimes, Mom?"
"Of course we can! In fact, I would love to," answered Mom. "But now, you'd better get up or we'll be late!" she added, tweaking* Dora's nose playfully. They both laughed happily and Dora jumped out of bed to get ready for the day.
All day long she kept thinking about what she could do to put what she had read that morning into practice. Every time she felt like doing something unkind or saying something mean or grumpy, she'd be reminded of a verse she had read that morning. "By this shall all men know that ye are My disciples, if ye have love one to another," she would repeat to herself, and she'd think of something nice to say instead. It took quite an effort on her part, as she had gotten so used to being grumpy, and sometimes she'd forget.
Although it was difficult, as the day went on, she saw that she was improving. That evening, she and her mom cuddled up in Mom's big bed and read some stories from the Bible together. It felt so good to be in her mom's arms and once again hear about the miracles that Jesus did and how He always helped people.
"I want to be like Jesus, Mom," Dora commented after they had finished reading. "I want to love people and be a help to them, too."
"Oh, Honey, that's just wonderful," her mom replied, giving her a heartfelt hug and kiss. "I'm so proud of you! You did very well today, sweetheart, and you made Mommy very happy!" Dora smiled. It felt good to make others happy. She went to bed that night with her mother's words still ringing in her ears. As she closed her eyes, she felt so happy and content. She knew she was changing. Soon, she was sound asleep.
When she opened her eyes, she found herself skipping down the path of the garden again. The weeds that had been growing between the flat stones had disappeared, and as she looked even closer, she noticed that the stones were a delicate pink color (which just happened to be Dora's favorite color).
"These are not stones, this is pure marble," she mused out loud. Dora now stood in front of the rose bush, and the rose spoke up to answer her.
"Yes, these stones are marble--a very precious and rare kind. You'd be amazed at the treasures you can find hidden under all the weeds and mess here.--And look, the fountain has water again!" the rose said happily.
Dora looked up to see the fountain and sure enough, water was bubbling forth from all directions, splashing and creating a beautiful effect, as if the water was dancing. The gushing waters shone like liquid silver as the sunlight reflected off of it.
"Oh," said Dora, awed by the beauty of this sight. "Who would have ever thought that an old fountain could look so beautiful?" She looked around the garden, taking note of all the things there were still left to do. The bench needs repainting. The walls need to be repaired, and there are still some weeds in the corner over there. "Tell me," said Dora, turning to the rose again. "What can I do to get the rest of the garden clean? I want to see what other treasures there are!"
"Let me see," answered the rose, placing her leafy hand on what might have been her chin, "You've been kinder and more loving, you've been reading the Word, hmmm ... I know! Maybe you can ask the Voice!" the rose said triumphantly.
Dora looked surprised. "You know about the Voice that speaks to me?" she asked, dumbfounded.
The rose smiled knowingly. "Yes, yes, my dear. I know all about it. The Voice and I are great friends."
"You mean, you hear this Voice too? Do you know who it is?!" Dora asked excitedly. "Please, please! Tell me!"
Dora suddenly sat up with a start. The alarm had woken her up again, and she was back in her room, lying in her bed. The early morning sun streamed through her window. Oh great, she murmured within herself. Now I'll have to wait another whole day before finding out where this Voice is coming from. I almost found out! She sat there with a grumpy look on her face.
"Now, now, that will never do if you wish your garden to be beautiful," said the Voice. "You'll have to be patient."
"All right," Dora reluctantly agreed. She got out of bed and tried her best to look cheerful, even though she didn't feel like it. She remembered what the rose had said about asking the Voice what more she could do. Suddenly, she heard the Voice again. "All you have to do is just be quiet and listen, and I'll whisper things in your ears to tell you what to do."
And that's what Dora did. Throughout the day, she took time to be still, listening to see if the Voice would have anything to tell her--and when it did, she would do whatever it told her. All day long she found many opportunities to be kind and loving to people, to lend a helping hand to someone when they needed help, and to speak an encouraging word to someone who was maybe going through a trial. Each time the Voice would tell her what to say, who to go to, and who needed help.
The day passed quickly, and soon Dora found herself snuggled up in her bed. Mother came to kiss her goodnight and tuck her in.
"Sweet dreams and goodnight, Honey!" she said sweetly. "Don't let the bedbugs bite!" Dora giggled and thought to herself, I'm sure going to have sweet dreams tonight--very sweet dreams! She closed her eyes and the very next instant she was standing directly in front of the rose bush.
The rose smiled broadly at her, but didn't speak. Dora wanted to say many things, but decided to wait until the rose spoke first. They just looked at each other for what seemed like a very long time, each one knowing what the other was thinking. "Look over there," the rose finally said, pointing her branch to where the old rusty swing was. Dora turned, but the old swing was no longer there. Instead, in its place stood a new one, with brand new pink-and-white striped cushions. The canopy was covered in the same fabric, with shiny dangles all around. Lovely pink flowers such as Dora had never seen before were entwined on the poles that held the swing.
But Dora hardly noticed the beautiful new swing. Her eyes were drawn towards the Man who sat on it. He had white shoulder-length hair and a beard--though, judging by His face, He wasn't old at all. He wore a long, shiny white cloth that wrapped around His chest and under His arms, held up by a gold belt. Dora looked in His eyes. His eyes and His smile were so kind and loving that she felt completely mesmerized*.
He held out His hand and called her by name. She slowly walked towards Him, overwhelmed by the sight. She placed her hand in His, but couldn't find any words to say. Finally, she managed to whisper, "The Voice it's You, isn't it, Jesus?"
"Yes, My child, it's Me," He said, taking her hand in His. "Come, sit beside Me and let Me hold you close. Let's talk about anything your heart desires. I want to be your very Best Friend. I want to be with you all the time, to help you and make you happy."
"Oh, Jesus!" was all Dora could say. She gave Him a big kiss, hugging Him tight.
"Look at your garden, Dora," He said with a twinkle in His eye.
Dora glanced around and was surprised to see the garden clean now, with no weeds at all. The wall had been repaired, the bench repainted, and many new and different flowers of all colors of the rainbow filled the once-barren flowerbeds.
"Oh!" exclaimed Dora. "It's just beautiful! Thank You so much! You did it all, didn't You, Jesus?"
"How did you know?" Jesus smiled, His eyes shining at her wonder and surprise.
"Oh, it would have taken me forever to get it this way. I never could have done it so quickly," she answered.
"You're right. I cleaned it up for you because you pleased Me by obeying My voice when I spoke to you. In order to keep it nice, now you'll have to be faithful to water it every day, and make sure to call Me whenever you need help."
"I will, Jesus. I promise," Dora said, as she rested her head on His shoulder. She had never felt so happy and blissful in her whole life.
Then Jesus spoke again. "Would you like Me to tell you a story?" Dora didn't move but simply nodded her head. And so He began, "There once was a garden ..."
FARMER JONES' BARN
"Oh, my baby chicks! "said Mother Hen. "Now where is that little rascal I sat so patiently on until she was ready to hatch? Now she's off, whoosh! So fast!--And so soon after birth. Just yesterday she was hatched--can you imagine!"
Little Jenny chick had gone out to explore the new and amazing world around her. She had itchy feet--no time for sitting around and getting bored with the other, older chickens--Mama Hen, who seemed to spend all her time sitting on eggs, and Daddy Cock, who was always so punctual and focused on the schedule. He even did reveille for humans, so that they would wake up on time! Cock-a-doodle-doooo!
"Oh my! There he goes again!" said Jenny to herself. "This is not where I belong. I want adventure, action, and fun! I wanna go where it's exciting and dangerous. This chicken coop is not for me."--And off she strutted, headed for the old wooden fence that surrounded the farmyard. I wonder what's on the other side. It's probably a whole lot more exciting than what's in here.
"Grrrr! Woof! Woof! Grrrrrrrr!"
Jenny jumped back with a start. She looked up to see Hunter, the ferocious German shepherd dog who watched the gate. He barked and growled at her so loud that poor Jenny couldn't find her legs to move. She stood there frozen with fright, looking up at this giant-of-a-beast towering over her. Why, just his mouth was as big as she was!
"Help! Mama, help! Save me!" she cried, when she finally found her voice. Thankfully, Mama Hen had spotted her, and came to her rescue, clucking and flapping her wings as hard as she could. The noise and the hustle distracted Hunter, providing Jenny the opportunity to run back to safety.
"Oh, Mama, he was so big and scary and " Jenny burst into tears, her little legs still wobbling. Mama Hen drew her under her wing to comfort and console her.
"Now, don't worry about him. He may look big and scary, but he's really just a loud and grouchy old dog who means no harm. His job is to protect us and our farmer from strangers."
"But why did he have to bark at me?" little Jenny sobbed.
"He didn't want you to go running outside the gate and get lost, or swallowed up by a stray cat."
"Oh," said Jenny. She was now thankful she had such a caring mom who watched over her. Now I know why Mama's always telling me to stay close to her and not wander off, she thought.
Just then it started to rain. With a loud splosh, splosh, the rain began to soak the farmyard. But Jenny wasn't afraid; she didn't even get wet, because she was safe under Mama's wing. The rain poured down for quite some time, and Mama Hen grew concerned as large puddles began filling up the yard. After awhile, the rain stopped, but just then, a bolt of lightning came down from the sky, striking the ground not far from the farmyard.
"Oh no! The lightning has hit Farmer Jones' house!" neighed Molly, the mare. Soon, they all saw flames licking up from the back of the wooden farmhouse, and smoke began to fill the air.
"What can we do? What if Farmer Jones is still inside? We have to save him!" mooed the cow.
"I've got it!" piped up the rooster. "We can call for help! Let's make as much noise as we can, and then maybe the neighbors will hear us and come over to help put out the fire!"
"Good idea," cried the animals.
At once, they began to call out: "Neigh!" "Cock-a-doodle-doo!" "Woof, woof!" "Moo, moo!" "Oink, oink!"
George, the work horse, managed to kick open the stable door, neighing and bucking with all his might. He began running around the farmyard.
"Mama! What's going on?" shivered Jenny, peeping out at the fire, which by now seemed to be spreading to the front of the house.
"Don't worry. It's going to be all right, just wait and see," whispered Mama Hen.
Boy, I'm glad I'm not out there in that storm! I'm never going to run off again, thought Jenny.
Mama Hen began to whisper, "Dear Lord, please keep our farmer safe. Help someone to hear us and come over to help."
v
Next door, Mr. Brown sat drinking a cup of coffee with his wife in the kitchen when the unusual noise caught his attention. Looking out the window he saw his neighbor's horse kicking and braying.
"I wonder what's all the fuss?" he said to his wife. No sooner had he finished the sentence when the rising smoke caught his attention.
"Quick, Mama!" he called out to his wife, "Call the fire engines. The Joneses are in trouble." As fast as he could, he grabbed a couple of pails and rushed off for Farmer Jones' house.
Minutes later, the sound of sirens could be heard. Two fire engines arrived on the scene and quickly began to put out the flames. Farmer Jones and his family had been trapped up on the second floor, but were rescued just in time, as the fire fighters helped them climb down the ladders attached to the engines. The house had been lost, but their lives and the rest of the farm had been saved.
"How can I ever thank you?" said Farmer Jones to Mr. Brown and his wife.
"Well, Mr. Jones, it was your animals that saved you," he replied, stroking George's golden mane. "I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't heard them makin' all that fuss."
"Neighhhh!" George called out, as Farmer Jones laughed and stroked his nose.
"Yes, I've got a farm to be proud of! Thank You, Lord."
The rest of the animals looked on with joy. They were so happy that they had played their part in saving their farmer and his family, and the farm. Little Jenny peeped out from under her mother's wing to see that all was well.
"The Lord answered your prayers, Mama, didn't He!"
"Yes, He did," Mama Hen replied. "Yes, He did."
The Magic Rose
Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there lived a young prince. His father was the king of a vast realm. They lived in a beautiful castle, built at the top of a great hill. The castle glistened in the sunlight, and so high were its spires*, that even from a great distance, they could be seen reaching up into the sky.
The castle was surrounded by a large and deep forest, and the young prince loved to go riding with his friends. They would often go out to hunt, or just explore the beauty of the realm.
On one such day, as they rode through a dark and dense part of the forest, the prince spotted a large rosebush with a single deep-red rose. He thought it odd. He did not know that a rose could bloom in this dark part of the forest. Yet there it was, in the midst of a hedge of thorns: a single, full, and beautiful crimson-red rose, which seemed to emanate a magical light. The prince was at once captured by its beauty and longed to have this rose for his own.
He got off his horse, and walked over to the hedge. As he came closer, he saw how the rose scintillated. It was almost as if the flower turned to look at this goodly prince, to beckon him to pluck it. This brought great happiness to the prince, and immediately he knew that he could not leave the rose there. He would have to pluck it up, and bring it back to the castle.
But the rose was deeply embedded in the thorn bush, and as the prince reached in his hand, the thorns poked his flesh, and tore at his arm. As the blood came to the surface, the prince continued to reach into the bush, until finally his fingers grasped the stem of this magic rose. Even then, as he plucked loose the rose, the thorns on the stem poked into his fingers. Yet he barely noticed the pain for the joy that he now had this rose in his possession.
How happy the prince was; the rose was his. The rose itself glowed all the more, as if it was smiling at him, thankful that it had been picked. He placed the rose within his cloak, and rode back towards the castle. There, he went straight to his room, and on a ledge by the window, in an old but pleasant earthen vessel, he planted his beloved and magical rose.
His hands were still bleeding slightly from the wounds he had suffered in retrieving this rose, and as a drop of blood dripped off his finger, it fell upon the deep-red rose. Suddenly, a change began to come over the rose. As more drops of blood ran down its crimson petals, the petals began to change color. What had been crimson-red slowly turned into a light pink, and soon the rose glowed with a beautiful, pure white radiance.
The prince stood in awe, both at the amazing transformation that had come over his rose, and at the magnificent white resplendence* with which it now shone. And so he left it there, in its earthen vessel on the mantelpiece of his window, to see how it would grow.
Every day the prince would sit and admire the rose's beauty. As the months went by, it grew new roots in the earth that the prince had so lovingly placed it in. It bloomed and grew and sprung new blossoms that climbed up the edge of the window.
* * *
After many years, the day came for the young prince to choose for himself a wife. Princesses and ladies of renown came from all over the realm to present themselves to the prince, and to seek the approval of the king. While many were beautiful, few seemed to care much about the prince. They were only interested in the riches of the realm. And so the prince's heart cared for none of them. He found none that seemed fit to rule so great a kingdom at his side.
Distressed, he returned to his room, closed the door behind him, and sat despondently on his bed. "Who will love me for what I am, and not for what I have? Who will love my people, and not just my riches and my power?" he asked himself.
His eyes fell upon his beautiful rose, which by now had grown so many new blooms that the window was ringed over by a beautiful arch of pure white roses. How he loved to look at them!
"Oh, my dear rose, if only there was a lady with all the beauty and charm and sweetness such as I have found in you--I would marry her."
The prince plucked one of the white roses from off the bush, and gently lifted it that he might smell its delightful fragrance. As he did, his lips brushed lightly over the velvety texture, and he placed a gentle kiss upon its petals, and then returned it to the earth from which this magic rosebush bloomed.
Suddenly, the room was filled with the scent of the roses, and there was a flash of dazzling light. The prince turned around, and found himself gazing at a radiant and beautiful princess! She was adorned with white rose petals that sat as a crown upon her head, and a lovely refulgent* white dress with folds as manifold and deep as the petals of a rose. A white satin robe hung loosely off her shoulders, embroidered with the designs of rosebushes: buds, leaves, petals and thorns.
"Who are you?" the prince asked in astonishment.
"I am the rose you plucked from among the thorns many years ago. In rescuing me, you rescued more than a rose. I am a princess. A spell was cast upon me by the dark sorcerer of the forest, that I should be a deep-red rose, embedded in a hedge of thorns. Only by the blood of a prince could I again become white, and only by the kiss of a prince would I be released. And so now, O prince of light, you have set me free. I am yours, to do with as you please."
The prince, still in awe, glanced back at the rosebush in the window. It was still there, although it seemed to have lost its magical radiance and glow. It was now an ordinary rosebush, though still beautiful. But the radiance stood in front of him now--this princess that was the most lovely of all princesses he had ever seen. And as much as he had loved his rose, yet the more did he now love this princess.
The prince knelt down in front of her, and took her hand in his. "My dear and precious princess, my beautiful rose, my life would lose its meaning without you. I have cared for, nurtured, and nourished you from the time that I plucked you from those thorns. You have always brought great joy and peace to my heart. I have come to love you so greatly that I could not bear to live without the beauty of your radiance in my life."
"Oh, my prince," said the princess, "you have plucked me out of the darkness; you have cast off the spell that bound me; you have rescued me from the evil one. What can I do but give my life, my love, my all, to you?"
The prince stood up and looked deeply into her eyes, and as he did, he knew that he had found his bride, his princess, the one who would reign with him over his great realm. He lifted her tender hand to his lips, and gently kissed it. "Oh, my princess, I shall love you, cherish you, and honor you all the days of my life. My rose, my love, my fair beauty, will you be mine?"
The princess, overcome with love, flung both her arms around the prince, and so they kissed, locked in each other's fond embrace.
The day of the wedding was a joyful one. The king held a royal banquet in the great hall of the castle, and there the prince and princess were wed. That day was declared a day of rejoicing throughout the realm, a day of feasting, and a day of love. And so they all lived happily ever after.
Definitions included throughout booklet:
* encumber: to burden; weigh down
* tweak: to pinch or twist
* mesmerize: to captivate, enchant
* spire: top part of a tower or steeple that narrows to a point
* resplendence: splendid or dazzling appearance
* refulgent: shining radiantly
[End]
Copyright (c) 1998 by Aurora Productions