THE HOT WATER BOTTLE
- A True Story By Helen Roseveare, Missionary to
Africa -
One night, in Central Africa, I had worked hard to help a mother in the
labor ward; but in spite of all that 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. We had no incubator. We
had no electricity to run an incubator, and no special feeding facilities.
Although we lived on the equator, nights were often chilly with
treacherous drafts.
A student-midwife went for the box we had for such babies and for the
cotton wool that the baby would be wrapped in. Another went to stoke up
the 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 a burst water
bottle. 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; 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 many
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. The baby could so easily die if it got
chilled. I also told them about the two-year-old sister, crying because
her mother had died.
During the prayer time, one ten-year-old girl, Ruth,
prayed with the usual blunt consciousness of our African children.
"Please, God," she prayed, "send us a water bottle. It'll be no good
tomorrow, God, the baby'll be dead; so, please send it this afternoon."
While I gasped inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she added by way of
corollary, " ...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 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 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 that I reached home, the car had gone, but there, on the
veranda, was a large twenty-two 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 began to look a little
bored. Next, came a box of mixed raisins and sultanas - - that would make
a nice batch of buns for the weekend.
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, Mummy, and give this dolly to that little girl, so she'll know that
Jesus really loves her?"
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. One of the
girls had put in a dolly for an African child -- five months earlier in
answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to bring it "That
afternoon!" "And it shall come to pass, that before they call, I will
answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear." Isaiah 65:24
Helen Roseveare a doctor missionary from England to Zaire, Africa, told
this as it had happened to her in Africa. She shared it in her testimony
on a Wednesday night at Thomas Road Baptist Church.
submitted by
Wayne & Connie Cochrun
The Story of the Dying Baby, a Hot Water Bottle, A Child's Prayer, and A
Children's Doll-TRUTH!
This story originates from Helen Roseveare, a missionary from Northern
Ireland. TruthOrFiction.com tracked her down and she told us this
story is true and that she included it in her book "Living Faith."
She has written
about the revival that took place in the 1950's in what was then the
Belgian Congo. She has been associated with WEC, World Evangelization for
Christ.
[Note from Kay: You can buy some
of her books as used or new from
Amazon.com, too. Type in Roseveare in the search box for books.]
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