The Hot Water Bottle
A True Story By Helen Roseveare, Missionary to Africa
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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 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 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)
Prayer is one of the best
free gifts we receive. There is no cost, but a lot of rewards. Let's
continue praying for one another.
Heavenly Father, I ask you to
bless my friends reading this. I ask You to minister to their spirit.
Where there is pain, give them Your peace and mercy. Where there is self
doubting, release a renewed confidence to work through them. Where there
is tiredness or exhaustion, I ask You to give them understanding,
guidance, and strength. Where there is fear, reveal your
love and release to them Your courage. Bless their finances, give them
greater vision, and raise up leaders and friends to support and
encourage them. I ask You to do these things in Jesus' name. Amen
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