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rick:
> >This beautiful story was written by a doctor who worked in Africa.
> > >
> > >             One night I had worked hard to help a mother in the labor
> > >ward; but in spite of all we could do, she died, leaving us with a
tiny,
> > >premature baby and a crying two-year-old daughter.
> > >
> > >             We would have difficulty keeping the baby alive, as we had
> > >no incubator (we had no electricity to run an incubator) . We also had
> > >no special feeding facilities.  Although we lived on the equator,
> > >nights were often chilly with treacherous drafts.
> > >
> > >             One student midwife went for the box we had for such
babies
> > >and the cotton wool that the baby would be wrapped in.  Another went to
> > >stoke up he fire and fill a hot water bottle. She came back shortly
> > >in distress to tell me that in filling the bottle, it had burst (rubber
> > >perishes easily in tropical climates ).
> > >
> > >             "And it is our last hot water bottle!" she exclaimed.  As
in
> > >the West, it is no good crying over spilled milk, so in Central Africa
> > >it might be
> > >             considered no good crying over burst water bottles.  They
do
> > >not grow on trees, and there are no drugstores down forest pathways.
> > >
> > >             "All right," I said, "put the baby as near the fire as you
> > >safely can, and sleep between the baby and the door to keep it free
from
> > >drafts.
> > >             Your job is to keep the baby warm."
> > >
> > >             The following noon , as I did most days, I went to have
> > >prayers with any of the orphanage children who chose to gather with me.
> > >I gave the youngsters various suggestions of things to pray about and
> > >told them about the tiny baby.  I explained our problem about keeping
> > >the baby warm enough, mentioning the hot water bottle, and that the
> > >baby could so easily die if it got chills.  I also told them of the
> > >two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had died.
> > >
> > >             During prayer time, one ten -year-old girl, Ruth, prayed
> > >with the usual blunt conciseness of our African children.  "Please,
God"
> > >she prayed,
> > >             "Send us a hot water bottle today.  It'll be no good
> > >tomorrow, God, as the baby will be dead, so please send it this
> > >afternoon."
> > >
> > >             While I gasped inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she
> > >added, "And while You are about it, would You please send a dolly for
> > >the little girl so she'll know You really love her?"
> > >
> > >             As often with children's prayers, I was put on the spot.
> > >Could I honestly say "Amen"?  I just did not believe that God could do
> > >this.
> > >             Oh, yes, I know that He can do everything; the Bible says
> > >so.  But there are limits, aren't there?  The only way God could answer
> > >this particular prayer would be by sending me a parcel from the
homeland.
> > >I
> > >had been in Africa for almost four years at that time, and I had never,
> > >ever, received a parcel from home.
> > >
> > >             Anyway, if anyone did send me a parcel, who would put in a
> > >hot water bottle?  I lived on the equator!
> > >
> > >             Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the
> > >nurses' training school, a message was sent that there was a car at my
> > >front door.  By the time I reached home, the car had gone, but
> > >there on the verandah was a large 22-pound parcel.  I felt tears
> > >pricking my eyes.  I could not open the parcel alone, so I sent for the
> > >orphanage
> > >children. Together we pulled off the string, carefully undoing each
> > >knot.  We folded the paper, taking care not to tear it unduly.
> > >Excitement was mounting.  Some thirty or forty pairs of eyes were
> > >focused on the large cardboard box.
> > >
> > >            From the top, I lifted out brightly-colored, knitted
> > >jerseys.  Eyes sparkled as I gave them out.  Then there were the
knitted
> > >bandages for the leprosy patients, and the children looked a little
> > >bored.  Then came a box of mixed raisins and sultanas - that would make
> > >a batch of buns for the weekend.  Then, as I put my hand in again, I
felt
> > >the.....could it really be?  I grasped it and pulled it out.  Yes, a
> > >brand new, rubber hot water bottle.  I cried.
> > >
> > >             I had not asked God to send it; I had not truly believed
> > >that He could.  Ruth was in the front row of the children.  She rushed
> > >forward, crying out, "If God has sent the bottle, He must have sent the
> > >dolly, too!"
> > >
> > >             Rummaging down to the bottom of the box, she pulled out
the
> > >small, beautifully-dressed dolly.  Her eyes shone!  She had never
> > >doubted!
> > >             Looking up at me, she asked: "Can I go over with you and
> > >give this dolly to that little girl, so she'll know that Jesus really
> > >loves her?"  Of  course, I replied!
> > >
> > >             That parcel had been on the way for five whole months,
> > >packed up by my former Sunday school class, whose leader had heard and
> > >obeyed God's prompting to send a hot water bottle, even to the equator.
> > >And one of the girls had put in a dolly for an African child - five
> > >months before, in answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to
> >bring
> > >it "that afternoon."
> > >
> > >             "Before they call, I will answer."  (Isaiah 65:24)
> > >
> > >             

gmik:
Great story.

PS  Olivia is soooo cute.

rick:
thank you, gena. you are very kind. she is a looker, huh? i thought you might like this picture. this is where i told her God wouldnt punish the majority of His creation forever and forever. just kidding!

gmik:
Rick that is too funny!!

I love the picture.  Actually she looks just like the twins!!!

iris:
Cute baby Rick!!!
She looks like she's having some sweet dreams.


Iris

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