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| Stephanie Pauline |
Miss Bump
Have you ever had a perfect summer's day. At
its eve
the breeze sends cottonwood seeds gently
drifting by
and there's just enough sun left to make each
one
glow like fairy dust on the air. Long
shadows stretch across the grass and you
linger in the moment as long
as you can...drinking in every breath.
You just met my Mom. Now she has her bad days just like any of us, or just like the weather for that matter, but often, like that summer's eve she can weave magic into the air. My Mom is a story teller. She comes from a long line of story tellers. Whenever my Mom's side of the family gets together, telling, retelling, and listening to the telling of stories is our favorite, and actually, our only past time. So it was natural that my Mom would tell me and my sister stories growing up. Some she read from books she'd find for us and some she made up on the spot like she knew of a secret window to a technicolor world into which she could peer at will. There were the ones about Reddy Strawberry and Bluey Bluebell, and their uproarious mishaps/adventures. There was Princess Stephanie (and Charlotte too) and the fantastical land of the Milky Way. There were her childhood stories told over and over upon our rampant insistence. Then there was the story of Miss Bump. My Mom had a few "special" books tucked away safely in a drawer. These were books she only took out on occasion and we were never to touch otherwise. Miss Bump was one of these. Miss Bump herself was a dolly owned by the daughter of some missionaries who lived in China. She was a beautiful doll with rosy cheeks, blinking eyes, and a lovely blue dress with ruffles. The girl, Rosemary, loved Miss Bump and took her everywhere with her. She had other dolls, but none, in her mind, compared to Miss Bump. The family cared for children in an orphanage. A little orphan girl had just arrived. She had been beaten and was very sad. She did not smile or speak to anyone. Still, Christmas was coming and there was much to be done to prepare. Every year Rosemary collected money and toys for the children at the orphanage. One night when Rosemary was all tucked in bed her Mother was reading in the Bible about how Jesus gave everything, even His life, for her. Rosemary prayed, "Please, Jesus, let there be enough for all the children." Her Mother asked, "Rosemary, what are you going to give?" Contemplating all her toys and dolls as she clutched Miss Bump she asked, "Do I have to give my very best?" Her Mother responded, "That is for you to decide. Only remember what Jesus said, 'Inasmuch as you have done it for one of these, you have done if for me.'" That night Rosemary thought about what they had discussed. The next day, too, her mind kept going back to what her Mother had said. Christmas Day arrived - The little orphan girl had never seen a tree all lit up before. Her eyes widened, but still no smile broke across her face. Then from the base of the tree, Rosemary called the orphan girl's name and joyfully announced "Look! This has your name on it!" There it was - a beautiful doll with rosy cheeks, blinking eyes, and a lovely blue dress with ruffles! The orphan girl took Miss Bump in her arms. She hugged her tightly to her chest and then and there, it happened. She smiled. Rosemary had other dolls she loved, but none she ever loved as much as Miss Bump. Through Miss Bump Rosemary had learned about the greatest gift of all. Love. That's the story. Though I tried to retell it well I doubt you heard it the way I did, sitting at my Mom's feet as her voice lilted and carried in its very timbre the substance of salvation. Magic - I tell you - Magic. Like that summer's eve. It was there that I met Jesus. Looking up at my Mom's glistening eyes; warm and tender, inviting and real, with the wrap of her voice all around me. I gave my favorite doll that summer to a missionary who visited our church. It wasn't an easy decision for me either. Still, unprompted, except by the story of Miss Bump, at five years old, I gave it to him with the sole condition that he give it to a little girl who didn't have a dolly of her own. What's my point? I guess I don't have one this time. I just wanted to tell you about a woman who gave me life in more ways than one. A precious soul who introduced me to love. Thank you, Mom. I love you. |
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Thank you for taking the time to read this
letter. I hope
it gave you something meant just for you;
your heart,
your need, whatever that may be. Be
encouraged.
God is real. His healing is real and His
love never
fails.
I should probably tell you that we do need ten more monthly supporters. Pray about it. If one of those is meant to be you, I trust you will know it and be faithful to respond to His prompting. You can send your tax deductible gift via snail mail to More than Music Inc. PO Box 31 Farmington, MN 55024, or you can make an online donation by clicking below and going to the contact or mission page. |
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Your Servant and Sister in Christ,
Stephanie Pauline |
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