STORIES FOR A FAITHFUL HEART: Over 100 Treasures to Touch Your Soul (Stories for the Heart) - Softcover

Softcover

ISBN 10: 160142003X ISBN 13: 9781601420039

Publisher: PRH Christian Publishing, 2004

Synopsis

Compiled by the creator of the bestselling Stories for the Heart series, Stories for a Faithful Heart features devotional readings to lift spirits, warm hearts, and touch souls. Highlighting the work of today's most respected Christian authors -- such as Max Lucado, Kay Arthur, and Billy Graham -- Stories for a Faithful Heart offers true inspiration and solid take-away value to readers of all ages, backgrounds, and levels of maturity. Ideal for both personal use and gift-giving, this devotional exposes readers to a wide range of writings, all nudging them ever closer to the Lord.

About this title

About the Author

Alice Gray is an inspirational conference speaker and the creator and compiler of the bestselling Stories for the Heart book series, with over 5 million in print. She and her husband, Al, live in Arizona.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Stories for a Faithful Heart

Over One Hundred Treasures to Touch Your SoulBy Alice Gray

Multnomah Publishers

Copyright © 2006 Alice Gray
All right reserved.
ISBN: 9781601420039

Chapter One

LAVENDER MEMORIES

* * *

Sandra Picklesimer Aldrich and Bobbie Valentine
From Heartprints

As Cotha Prior strolled past the new shop that sold bodylotions and soaps, the lavender-wrapped bars displayedin the window caught her attention. Her daughter, Monica, wouldlike those. Once inside, Cotha picked up the closest bar and held it to hernose. The fragrance carried her back to her childhood.

    She remembered Margie, the little girl in her fifth grade class whoalways was poorly dressed and whose bathing habits were, well, not one ofher regular habits. Even at that young age, Cotha knew how important theopinions of her friends were, so although she felt sorry for Margie, she couldn'trisk being friends with her.

    Then one afternoon, as the young Cotha colored the states on herhomework worksheet, she casually mentioned Margie to her mother, whostopped in the middle of stirring the stew to ask, "What's her family like?"

    Cotha didn't look up. "Oh, really poor, I guess," she answered.

    "Well, it sounds as though she needs a friend," Mrs. Burnett said. "Whydon't you invite her to spend Friday night with you?"

    Cotha looked up quickly then. "You mean here? Spend the night withme? But, Mom, she smells."

    "Cotha Helen." Her mother's use of both names meant the situation wassettled. There was nothing to do but invite Margie home. The next morningCotha hesitantly whispered the invitation at the end of recess while herfriends were hanging up their jackets and combing their hair. Margie lookedsuspicious, so Cotha added, "My mother said it's okay. Here's a note from mymother to give to yours."

    So two days later they rode the school bus home while Cotha tried toignore the surprised looks on her friends' faces as they saw the two of themtogether. Have two fifth grade girls ever been quieter? Cotha thought of othertimes when she'd been invited to spend the night with a friend. They wouldtalk and giggle all the way to their stop.

    Finally Cotha gave a determined little huff and said to Margie, "I've gota cat. She's going to have kittens."

    Margie's eyes lit up. "Oh, I like cats." Then she frowned as though recallinga painful memory and added, "But my dad doesn't."

    Cotha didn't know what to say then, so she feigned interest in somethingoutside the school bus window.

    Both girls were silent until the bus rolled to a stop in front of the whitehouse with the green shutters.

    Mrs. Burnett was in the kitchen. She greeted Cotha and Margie warmlyand then gestured toward the table set with two glasses of milk and bananabread. "Why don't you girls have a little snack while I tend to dinner," shesaid.

    When the banana bread was finished, Mrs. Burnett handed each childidentical paper-doll books and blunted scissors. Dressing the paper womenin shiny dresses gave them something in common to talk about. By the timethey washed their hands for dinner, they were chatting enthusiastically aboutschool.

    After the dishes were done, Mrs. Burnett said, "Time to take a bathbefore bed, girls." Then she held out scented soaps wrapped in lavenderpaper. "Since this is a special night, I thought you might like to use fancysoaps," she said. "Cotha, you first, and I'll wash your back for you."

    Then it was Margie's turn. If she was nervous about having an adultbathe her, she didn't show it. As the tub filled, Mrs. Burnett poured in a doublecapful of her own guarded bubble bath. "Don't you just love bubble baths,Margie?" she asked as though the child bathed in such luxury every day.

    She turned to pull Margie's grimy dress over her head, then said, "I'lllook away as you take the other things off, but be careful climbing into thetub. That brand of bubble bath makes it slippery."

    Once Margie was settled into the warm water, Mrs. Burnett knelt downand soaped the wet washcloth heavily before rubbing it over the child's back.

    "Oh, that feels good," was all Margie said.

    Mrs. Burnett chatted about how quickly Cotha and Margie were growingand what lovely young women they were already. Repeatedly she soapedthe washcloth and scrubbed Margie's gray skin until it shone pink.

    Through the whole thing Cotha was thinking, Oh, how can she do that?Margie is so dirty. But Mrs. Burnett continued to scrub cheerfully, thenwashed Margie's hair several times. Once Margie was out of the tub, Mrs.Burnett dried her back and dusted her thin shoulders with scented talcum.Then, since Margie had brought no nightclothes, Mrs. Burnett pulled one ofCotha's clean nightgowns over Margie's now shining head.

    After tucking both girls under quilts, Mrs. Burnett leaned over to gentlykiss them good night. Margie beamed. As Mrs. Burnett whispered, "Goodnight, girls," and turned out the light, Margie pulled the clean sheets to hernose and breathed deeply. Then she fell asleep almost immediately.

    Cotha was amazed that her new friend fell asleep so quickly; she wasused to talking and giggling for a long time with her other friends. To thesound of Margie's gentle breathing, Cotha stared at the shadows on the wall,thinking about all her mother had done. During Margie's bath, Mrs. Burnetthad never once said anything to embarrass the girl, and she'd never evencommented about how grimy the tub was afterward. She just scrubbed itout, quietly humming the whole time. Somehow Cotha knew her motherhad washed more than Margie's dingy skin.

    All these years later, the adult Cotha stood in the fragrant store, thelavender soap still in her hand, wondering where Margie was now. Margiehad never mentioned Cotha's mother's ministrations, but Cotha had noticeda difference in the girl. Not only did Margie start coming to school clean andpleasant on the outside, but she had an inside sparkle that came, perhaps,from knowing someone cared. For the rest of the school year, Cotha andMargie played at recess and ate lunch together. When Margie's family movedat the end of the school year, Cotha never heard from her again, but sheknew they had both been influenced by her mother's behavior.

    Cotha smiled, then picked up a second bar of the lavender soap. She'dsend that one to her mother, with a letter saying that she remembered whather mom had done all those years ago—not only for Margie but for Cothaas well.

* * *

PÃO, SENHOR?

* * *

Max Lucado
From No Wonder They Call Him the Savior

He couldn't have been over six years old. Dirty face,barefeet, torn T-shirt, matted hair. He wasn't too differentfrom the other hundred thousand or so street orphans that roam Riode Janeiro.

    I was walking to get a cup of coffee at a nearby café when he came upbehind me. With my thoughts between the task I had just finished and theclass I was about to teach, I scarcely felt the tap, tap, tap on my hand. Istopped and turned. Seeing no one, I continued on my way I'd only taken afew steps, however, when I felt another insistent tap, tap, tap. This time Istopped and looked downward. There he stood. His eyes were whiterbecause of his grubby cheeks and coal-black hair.

    "Pão, Senhor?" ("Bread, sir?")

    Living in Brazil, one has daily opportunities to buy a candy bar orsandwich for these little outcasts. It's the least one can do. I told him to comewith me and we entered the sidewalk café. "Coffee for me and somethingtasty for my little friend." The boy ran to the pastry counter and made hischoice. Normally, these youngsters take food and scamper back out into thestreet without a word. But this little fellow surprised me.

    The café consisted of a long bar: one end for pastries and the other forcoffee. As the boy was making his choice, I went to the other end of the barand began drinking my coffee. Just as I was getting my derailed train ofthought back on track, I saw him again. He was standing in the caféentrance, on tiptoe, bread in hand, looking in at the people. "What's hedoing?" I thought.

    Then he saw me and scurried in my direction. He came and stood infront of me about eye-level with my belt buckle. The little Brazilian orphanlooked up at the big American missionary, smiled a smile that would havestolen your heart and said, "Obrigado." (Thank you.) Then, nervouslyscratching the back of his ankle with his big toe, he added, "Muito obrigado."(Thank you very much.)

    All of a sudden, I had a crazy craving to buy him the whole restaurant.

    But before I could say anything, he turned and scampered out the door.

    As I write this, I'm still standing at the coffee bar, my coffee is cold, andI'm late for my class. But I still feel the sensation that I felt half an hour ago.And I'm pondering this question: If I am so moved by a street orphan whosays thank you for a piece of bread, how much more is God moved when Ipause to thank him—really thank him—for saving my soul?

Continues...

Excerpted from Stories for a Faithful Heartby Alice Gray Copyright © 2006 by Alice Gray. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Edition details

• Publisher: PRH Christian Publishing
• Publication date: 2004
• Language: English
• ISBN 10: 160142003X
• ISBN 13: 9781601420039
• Binding: Paperback
• Number of pages: 268