The morning Sun moved to school time in the sky.
He sent his messengers to the children of Earth. One bright
ray hastened to Margy Lou's
room where he lit on her face and
wakened her. As she slowly opened her eyes she noticed
the sunbeam coming through a crack in
the blind just like a golden ladder to heaven.
"Margy Lou, Margy Lou! Time to get up." It was
her mother calling. Margy didn't answer;
she was absorbed in watching the dancing particles in the
light ray.
A few minutes later her mother called again.
"Margy Lou, Margy Lou! You had better get
up now or you will be late for school."
"When she heard the word school Margy's heart
turned a flip-flop. She remembered that it
was the day they were to recite the poem, The Children's
Hour. She liked poetry and especially
Longfellow's poems, but she was afraid to stand in front
of the boys and girls and recite.
Her throat tightened as she thought about it. It
began to hurt. She would tell her mother she
didn't feel well. Perhaps she would let her stay at
home. Then she wouldn't have to say the poem.
Mrs. Bond came into the room. Margy didn't move. Her
mother came to the bed. "What's the
matter, Margy? Why aren't you getting up?"
"Oh, Mother, my throat hurts." Margy held her
hands to her throat. Mrs. Bond examined her
throat and found enlarged kernels on each side. However,
being a wise mother, she decided it
was best to ignore symptoms this time. She said, "I
don't think it is anything serious. It will
probably be all right by the time you reach school. Get
up now and get ready. I will have your
breakfast in a few minutes." Then she left the room.
Margy got up she knew her mother wasn't going to
let the throat trouble be an excuse for
her to stay home this time. Soon she was dressed and
ready for breakfast. But the hot chocolate
she liked so well with brown toast had no appeal as she
thought about the ordeal ahead. She ate a
little to keep her mother from worrying, but left her
cereal untouched.
Then she got her books and started for school.
Usually she enjoyed the walk, but today each
step was bringing her nearer to recitation time. Finally
she bowed her head and prayed as she
walked, "Dear God, help me to speak the poem. Help me not
to be afraid." Asking God to help
made her feel better, and as she lifted her head she saw
something round, dark, and shiny lying on
the walk in front of her. She stooped and picked it up.
It was a buckeye. Margy knew what had
made it so shiny. Someone had been carrying it in his
pocket a long time, probably to keep off
rheumatism, as she had heard her Uncle Jim say.
She held it in her hand and looked at it. How
could the nut possibly keep rheumatism away?
It might be because one believed that it would. Then she
saw Thelma and Lucille motioning for
her to hurry, so she dropped the nut in her dress pocket
and ran to catch up with them.
At last the hour came for the poetry. Thelma was
the first to recite. She spoke without the
least sign of fear. Margy knew the poem just as well as
Thelma. She wondered why she couldn't
recite like Thelma. A couple of boys were next after
Thelma. Margy began to get fidgety as she
knew her time was getting nearer. Finally the teacher
smiled and said, "You are next, Margy Lou."
Margy walked hesitantly to the front of the room.
She didn't dare to look at the boys and
girls so she kept her eyes on the floor. She tried to
speak. Her lips moved. Not a sound came. Her
throat hurt. Her knees shook. Unconsciously she put her
hand into her pocket. What was that
hard thing her fingers touched? Oh, yes, the buckeye she
had picked up. She clutched it tightly in
her hand as she tried again to speak. To her surprise the
words now came out clearly. She lifted
her eyes and looked at the children. She recited the poem
without an error.
Margy went back to her seat very happy, but the
teacher's compliments were not the cause of
her happiness. Something had happened to her. She had not
been afraid to recite as long as she
had held the buckeye in her hand. Perhaps it did keep
rheumatism away, after all, she thought.
Anyway, she was going to keep that buckeye, and the next
time she was afraid to recite she would
see if it helped her.
So for several months Margy had no more throat
swellings. Whenever she had a difficult
lesson she held the magic buckeye in her hand and recited
well. But she never told anyone about
the nut. Always she was careful to bide it away when she
got home from school.
Then came the history test. Margy had never
learned history easily. She must be sure to take
the buckeye to help her during the test. Just before
starting to school she looked for it in the
drawer in her usual hiding place. It isn't there. She
searched the room, but could not find her
buckeye. She must have left it in the pocket of her blue
dress last Friday. She would ask her
mother if she had found it.
Mrs. Bond was ironing. "Mother, have you seen my
buckeye?" asked the little girl.
"Why, yes. I found one yesterday when I washed."
"Oh, goody! What did you do with it?" Margy 's
voice grew higher.
"I threw it away, dear," replied her mother.
Then Margy shrieked, "You threw my buckeye away!
What will I do? What will I do now?"
"Why, you can get another the next time we go to
Uncle Jim's, darling. You aren't getting
superstitious, are you?"
"But I don't want another one. I want that one."
Margy began to cry.
Mrs. Bond turned off the iron, put her arm around
Margy and led her to the couch. Then she
said, "Now tell Mother what is the matter. Did someone
you like very much give the buckeye to
you?"
"No, I found it," sobbed Margy.
"Can't you tell me why it means so much to you?"
asked Mrs. Bond. "I would have kept it if
I had known you wanted to keep it," she went on
consolingly.
Little by little her mother got from Margy the
story of how whenever she held the buckeye
in her hand she could recite without being afraid and
could get her lessons more easily.
Then Mrs. Bond said, "Margy Lou, listen to me.
That little buckeye was filled with Life; we
know Life was in it because if we had planted it, it
would have grown. Isn't that true? Now, the
Life in that buckeye was God. When you held the nut in
your hand, you were really holding
God's hand, for God's hand is everywhere. He holds our
hand all the time so we won't be afraid,
but sometimes we don't know that He does. Now this is
your opportunity to learn that God is
holding you hand. Whenever you are afraid or think you
can't get your lessons or recite them, just
remember that you can hold God's hand with your mind.
Then you will be free to use both of your
hands for whatever you have to do. Don't you think that
will be better than always having to hunt
and take care of a buckeye?"
"Yes," said Margy thoughtfully, "I do. But,
Mother, I can't feel God holding my hand like I
can feel the buckeye, can I?"
"No, dear," replied her mother, "but you can
know that God is always with you — that is
holding His hand with your mind. Don't you think you can
do that?"
Margy looked at her mother a moment and then
said, "Yes, I believe I can. I think God is
holding my hand now, and I am sure I can pass that
history test today."
Then Margy picked up her books and started to
school. She stopped at the door long
enough to say to her mother, "I'm glad now that you threw
my buckeye away, but, I am glad, too,
that I found it — because if I hadn't, I might have been
a long time learning that God is holding my hand."
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