New Beginnings

While Mr. Swift, Rosemary, and Hamid rescued Kinza, Jenny spent a long, long day at the hotel. It was a day in which she had plenty of time to think.

She wished she knew more about the Lord Jesus and had a Bible so she could read about Him. She thought about the picture at the clinic, and it reassured her that He loved children and wanted to come into her heart and change her. Instead of being cross, spoiled, and vain, she could be strong and happy and loving. “Like putting a candle inside an empty lantern, so that the light shines out,” Aunt Rosemary had said.

“Lord Jesus, please come into my life,” Jenny prayed.

That night she had so much to think about that she was sure she would never go to sleep, and yet her eyes closed almost immediately, and the next thing she knew her mother was shaking her gently. Auntie Rosemary was sitting at the foot of the bed, laughing and holding in her arms a bundle wrapped up in the car rug.

“It’s Kinza!” cried Jenny, flinging herself on the bundle and hugging and kissing her. It was two o’clock in the morning, so they had to talk in whispers because of the other guests, but Jenny wanted to know all about the rescue.

Everyone was hungry, so they made some tea. Mrs. Swift spread butter and honey on some bread and passed around biscuits. Never had there been a happier midnight feast, and Jenny knew that she would remember that hour all her life. Kinza had been brought back, and all Jenny’s naughtiness had been forgiven and forgotten. She was going to start again, a new child in a new, happy life. Sitting there in bed with all the people she loved best grouped around her, and her mouth full of bread and honey, she felt so happy she thought she would burst. Her mother said rather weakly four times that they really must all go to bed, but no one took the slightest notice; they just went on eating and whispering. When Mr. Swift told them how they had escaped from Si Mohamed, he fell backward in his excitement. Everyone tried so hard not to laugh out loud, then Kinza woke and sat up, blinking at them solemnly like a baby owl. She didn’t seem to like all this midnight merriment, but after a few moments she cuddled back in the rug and went to sleep again. Then Mrs. Swift said for the fifth time that they really must go to bed, and Mr. Swift said, “All right, but let me have just one more piece of bread because falling off the bed made me hungry again.” And then Rosemary wanted another piece, and so did Jenny, and her mother thought she might as well have one too.

Then Mrs. Swift said for the sixth time that they really must go to bed, and this time they did listen to her. They all kissed Jenny good night and tucked her in bed, and then went off down the passage laughing at Mr. Swift, who was trying to walk quietly in his enormous, squeaky shoes, like an elephant trying to walk on tiptoe. Jenny was left alone with her happiness. God had heard their prayers, and Kinza had come back.

Everyone slept the next morning till the sun was high—except Hamid and Rosemary. They got up at the usual time, Hamid because he had slept well all night on the backseat of Mr. Swift’s car, and Rosemary because she had a busy day ahead of her. It was still quite early when she was disturbed by a loud knocking, and she got up with a little sigh. When she opened the door, she found Hamid, his hands and face pink and shining from washing in the fountain.

His rags were dreadfully torn and dirty, and he had nasty sores on his legs, but the child was as eager and full of life as the spring morning. He kissed the nurse’s hand, chuckled, and hopped uninvited over the threshold. He seemed to have come for a particular reason but didn’t know what to say. “How’s Kinza?” he inquired.

“She’s all right,” said the nurse. “Do you want to see her?”

For an answer, he skipped upstairs ahead of her to where Kinza lay in her old corner on the mat, her dark head pillowed on her arm, fast asleep. Hamid nodded, well-pleased, and then looked around hopefully to see if there was any chance of something to eat. He had timed his visit perfectly, for the English nurse was just in the middle of her breakfast. Hamid sat cross-legged on the floor with bright, hopeful eyes. He had not eaten honey sandwiches in the night, and he was very hungry.

The nurse gave him a bowl of sweet coffee and a big hunk of bread. He sipped it noisily, chuckling with pleasure between mouthfuls. When he had finished and cleaned out the bowl with his finger for fear of wasting any sugar, he came a little closer and said confidently, “Teach me to read.”

The nurse looked at him doubtfully. “Many people want to learn to read and they only keep it up for about two weeks. Then my time is all wasted.”

Hamid shook his head very firmly. “I would go on every day, until harvesttime,” he said, “because then I am going home. My stepfather will be glad to see me at harvest because he’s so busy. Could I learn to read before harvest?”

“I would think so,” replied the nurse, “if you really come every day.” She thought of her busy days and wondered when she would fit him in, but the child seemed so keen and determined.

“Why do you want to learn to read, Hamid?” she asked.

He lifted a serious brown face to hers and told her his simple little story.

“I want to go home,” he said. “But if I go home and can’t read, who will go on teaching me the way to heaven?”

“Then you believe it really is the way to heaven?”

“Yes. I had a dream. I saw the Lord Jesus with His arms stretched out. I think He was on a cross. And behind the cross was a door, wide open, and He told me it was the way to God. And He told me I was to come to you because it was all written down in your Book.”

“Very well,” said the nurse quietly. “You can come every day just about this time. We’ll start at once.”

She fetched her book of Arabic letters and found him to be a very quick pupil. By the end of half an hour, he had learned quite a number of letters and was really pleased with himself.

“Aa–d–dd–rr–z,” he chanted proudly. “Now I can read!”

He skipped off with his head held high, and the nurse went back with a happy heart to clear the breakfast things.