"In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth."... "Lo, I am with
you alway, even unto the end of the world." These were the two sentences
that were neatly written on two pieces of paper on Marcia Loran's desk and
the girl sat looking at them while the minutes went steadily by. How could
they be? How could a power that made the earth be also in her life? How
could it be?
Marcia had always been a reader of her Bible; she had always loved her
mother's God and she loved Him now, but she was longing for help and no
one seemed near to give it. And the reason for the need of this help was
easy to give. The new girl who had moved into the next room had been
laughing at her belief in God and Marcia knew no way to answer. She had
hoped that her course in Bible at college would help her but somehow she
seemed less able than ever to answer it now.
Who was God? Where was God? How could she know that these two verses could
both be true? It was an honest doubt and she knew she must answer it
before her mind could be at rest. She felt she could never ask the
question in a letter to her mother, for mother must never know that she
was questioning. Oh, if only some one knew how much she needed help!
But it was time for the picnic which the members of her class were to
have, so she slipped the papers again into her Bible and went to the
campus. They were to climb one of the mountains near by and dear old
Professor Hastings was to be their guide. Old in years but young in heart
and lithe still in limb, he stood out among the students as one of the
best of the companions. As they climbed, Marcia kept near to him.
"I am looking," he said, "for a rare little flower which grows on this
mountainside. Perhaps you can help me find it. It is very tiny and it
grows in the crevice of the rock. But I am needing a specimen of it for my
collection."
So together they looked in every crevice but not a bit of the little white
blossom did they see.
Up, and up, and up they went. Some were tired and waited for the rest to
climb and return. Some even went back down the mountainside. But when the
top was reached, what a wonderful view spread out before them! Mountains
and lakes and streams; villages and cities and lonely farms; beauty and
calmness and majesty, all seemed to flood in at once on the minds and
hearts of those who looked.
After they had rested a while, the old man lightly touched the hand of the
girl and said,
"I have heard it said that one of my blossoms has been found on that cliff
not far away. Will you come with me to see?"
So they began to search the cliff; then they found a hidden cave and
explored that; Marcia heard a tiny stream of water trickling in the cave,
and when she had found the water, she found also, close to the water's
edge, a beautiful clump of waxy white blossoms, sweet and fragrant, and
hanging tightly to the rock.
"Oh! oh! Come, sir," called the girl. "I am sure these are what you seek.
Oh, how beautiful they are!" And they stooped to gather them.
But just at that moment a flash of lightning lighted the cave and the
thunder rolled. In a moment the rain was coming in torrents, and the noise
of the thunder as it rolled from cliff to cliff was terrifying. A giant
pine tree which stood just before the entrance of the cave was rent from
top to bottom and went crashing down the mountainside. The noise of the
wind and storm was deafening. Pale and trembling, the girl pushed farther
and farther into the cave till, crouching down, she touched something
cool. It was the little white flowers.
They were not afraid. The rain might fall as hard as it would but it would
not blast their beauty. They were protected by a bit of overhanging rock.
The lightning might flash about the cave but it was calm inside. Who had
made the tiny blossoms to grow here in the rock, protected from storm and
blast? God! She, too, was being cared for while her companions might be in
the fury of the storm. Who was caring for her? Her friend? No, he was
interested in something at the entrance of the cave. God was caring for
her even as he cared for the little blossom.
"Come, Marcia, come and watch the storm," called the professor. "I have
never seen such a beautiful one. Isn't it strange that that electricity
was all there in the clouds as we came up the mountain though we knew it
not? I love to watch a storm for it shows so clearly the power and majesty
of our God. Watch the trees bend with the wind! Listen to the rocks send
back the sound of the thunder! See the little bird on yonder nest
snuggling close to keep the little ones safe! And see, far away, the sun
shining on the little village of the plain. We are in the storm, child,
yet we are safe and sheltered."
With her hand held fast in that of her old friend, the fear gradually died
away, and when the storm was over she, too, was glad she had seen from the
mountaintop the wonder of a mountain storm.
Soon they gathered the little white blossoms, but not all of them found
their way into the collection at the college. A little spray was tenderly
pressed between the leaves of Marcia Loran's Bible and a third little slip
of paper was fastened to the other two. It read: "God is great but God is
love. I will trust him and not be afraid."