A CRY-AMISADVENTURE-AN ANSWER

 

 

                            A CRY - A MISADVENTURE – AN ANSWER

Oh, the excitement!  It was time for the annual school trip.  Rather than the usual educational trip by one class to a museum or farm, the annual school trip was more like a community event.  All year long, families saved up and planned for the day-long trip to Canada’s Wonderland, near Toronto.  Children whose parents could not go were assigned to another parent, usually the parent of a friend, so that they would have companionship.  Once there, the families were on their own, needing only to return to the bus by a certain time.  To disadvantaged children, as some were, it was educational to leave the reserve and travel to the Toronto area, to see new sights.  And it was fun!

Rien and I were unable to go with Stephen one particular year.  Judy, the public school principal, had put Stephen with one of his best friends, in the care of his father.  In the back of my mind, anxious thoughts were nagging.  The father was immature and used drugs.  I did not want my son in his care, yet, as a guest on the reserve, I was reluctant to complain.  At least I could pray.

One evening, our family attended a community potluck.  Standing in the food line, I was talking with Betty, a warm, middle-aged grandma who walked with a distinct limp.  She looked after her grandson Johnny, a somewhat slow boy a little older than Stephen.

“Can’t find Johnny anywhere,” Betty was saying. ‘I wonder where that boy could have got to.”

I could not help thinking about the dangerous Georgian Bay waters.  And all the other dangers any adult worries about when a child is missing: was Johnny hurt in the bush somewhere?  Had some stranger kidnapped him?

Knowing Betty had no car and could only get about slowly, I offered to drive her around to look for Johnny.  Quickly telling Rien where I was going, I grabbed my car keys and drove off with Betty.

“Where did you see him last?” I asked.  “Where did he play today?”

“Down by the beach, I think.”  Betty, growing more and more agitated, ran her arthritic hands through her hair.  “But he always comes home for dinner,” she moaned.

            We drove along the road by the water, and, fairly quickly, found Johnny asleep in a boathouse.  What a relief!

            “I’m just going to get him changed for the potluck, then we’ll be there,” Betty said, her face a wreath of smiles. “Oh, and I’ll take your boy with us on the school trip to Wonderland,” she said, eager to repay me.

“Oh, thank you, Betty,” I said.  “And thank You Lord,” I said silently

            Stephen would still have fun with Johnny and be safe with Betty.  I could have peace of mind about the school trip.  God had answered my prayer.

 

Cast all your anxiety on him, because he cares for you (1Peter 5:7)

           

 

 

 

 

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