Read Fireside Stories for Girls in Their Teens Page 9

  THE MESSAGE OF THE MOUNTAIN

  "In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth."... "Lo, I am withyou alway, even unto the end of the world." These were the two sentencesthat were neatly written on two pieces of paper on Marcia Loran's desk andthe girl sat looking at them while the minutes went steadily by. How couldthey be? How could a power that made the earth be also in her life? Howcould it be?

  Marcia had always been a reader of her Bible; she had always loved hermother's God and she loved Him now, but she was longing for help and noone seemed near to give it. And the reason for the need of this help waseasy to give. The new girl who had moved into the next room had beenlaughing at her belief in God and Marcia knew no way to answer. She hadhoped that her course in Bible at college would help her but somehow sheseemed less able than ever to answer it now.

  Who was God? Where was God? How could she know that these two verses couldboth be true? It was an honest doubt and she knew she must answer itbefore her mind could be at rest. She felt she could never ask thequestion in a letter to her mother, for mother must never know that shewas questioning. Oh, if only some one knew how much she needed help!

  But it was time for the picnic which the members of her class were tohave, so she slipped the papers again into her Bible and went to thecampus. They were to climb one of the mountains near by and dear oldProfessor Hastings was to be their guide. Old in years but young in heartand lithe still in limb, he stood out among the students as one of thebest of the companions. As they climbed, Marcia kept near to him.

  "I am looking," he said, "for a rare little flower which grows on thismountainside. Perhaps you can help me find it. It is very tiny and itgrows in the crevice of the rock. But I am needing a specimen of it for mycollection."

  So together they looked in every crevice but not a bit of the little whiteblossom did they see.

  Up, and up, and up they went. Some were tired and waited for the rest toclimb and return. Some even went back down the mountainside. But when thetop was reached, what a wonderful view spread out before them! Mountainsand lakes and streams; villages and cities and lonely farms; beauty andcalmness and majesty, all seemed to flood in at once on the minds andhearts of those who looked.

  After they had rested a while, the old man lightly touched the hand of thegirl and said,

  "I have heard it said that one of my blossoms has been found on that cliffnot far away. Will you come with me to see?"

  So they began to search the cliff; then they found a hidden cave andexplored that; Marcia heard a tiny stream of water trickling in the cave,and when she had found the water, she found also, close to the water'sedge, a beautiful clump of waxy white blossoms, sweet and fragrant, andhanging tightly to the rock.

  "Oh! oh! Come, sir," called the girl. "I am sure these are what you seek.Oh, how beautiful they are!" And they stooped to gather them.

  But just at that moment a flash of lightning lighted the cave and thethunder rolled. In a moment the rain was coming in torrents, and the noiseof the thunder as it rolled from cliff to cliff was terrifying. A giantpine tree which stood just before the entrance of the cave was rent fromtop to bottom and went crashing down the mountainside. The noise of thewind and storm was deafening. Pale and trembling, the girl pushed fartherand farther into the cave till, crouching down, she touched somethingcool. It was the little white flowers.

  They were not afraid. The rain might fall as hard as it would but it wouldnot blast their beauty. They were protected by a bit of overhanging rock.The lightning might flash about the cave but it was calm inside. Who hadmade the tiny blossoms to grow here in the rock, protected from storm andblast? God! She, too, was being cared for while her companions might be inthe fury of the storm. Who was caring for her? Her friend? No, he wasinterested in something at the entrance of the cave. God was caring forher even as he cared for the little blossom.

  "Come, Marcia, come and watch the storm," called the professor. "I havenever seen such a beautiful one. Isn't it strange that that electricitywas all there in the clouds as we came up the mountain though we knew itnot? I love to watch a storm for it shows so clearly the power and majestyof our God. Watch the trees bend with the wind! Listen to the rocks sendback the sound of the thunder! See the little bird on yonder nestsnuggling close to keep the little ones safe! And see, far away, the sunshining on the little village of the plain. We are in the storm, child,yet we are safe and sheltered."

  With her hand held fast in that of her old friend, the fear gradually diedaway, and when the storm was over she, too, was glad she had seen from themountaintop the wonder of a mountain storm.

  Soon they gathered the little white blossoms, but not all of them foundtheir way into the collection at the college. A little spray was tenderlypressed between the leaves of Marcia Loran's Bible and a third little slipof paper was fastened to the other two. It read: "God is great but God islove. I will trust him and not be afraid."