Thoughtful Moments
OUR SUNDAY MESSAGE
(Supplied by the Whakata
MISS BUNTY'S BLESSINGS
By Lucy Laing r The Women's Institute meeting was over, and its members walking home in little groups. Evidently the topic of conversation amongst them was something out of the' ordinary, since there was a good deal ■ of head-shaking going on. "If she thinks we're going to stand for such nonsense, she's mistaken," P stout Mrs Smith was proclaiming. "What blessings have we got to count, these hard times, I ask you? n We'd need a magnifying glass to find 'em, I reckon." u There were murmurs of assent all round, and only one wizened little woman ventured, nervously. ( "All the same, I do think there | tire many things we forget to be | thankful for." Mrs Smith withered her with a glance. "You ought to have a husband like mine, Janey Kerr, and then you'd be able to put him first." There were a good many laughs tit .Taney's expense, for few in the village envied Mrs Smith her lazj husband. "And as if our own families aren't enough," she went on, "we get other people's kids to look after as well. Not that I mind doing my hit f° r the poor little beggars, but they aren't exactly blessings, to my way of thinking." This sentiment received a good deal of sympathy, from other members of the Women's Guild. "Well," Mrs Smith continued sarcastically, "I hope you'll all get your bits of bessings ready for next Monday," and with a wave of her hand she pushed her lumbering pram containing two small chil.dien through an untidy garden to ■ her cottage beyond. Mrs Smith was too busy all the week to think of the suggestion made at the women's meeting, but late on Saturday. evening, when the children were in bed, it was brought home -to her rather vividly. "I'll just run in and take Miss Bunty a couple of my home-made rolls," she thought. "Poor soul, they might tempt her appetite." When she reached Miss Bunty's room she found the invalid's cheeks pink Avith excitement. "Whatever are you doing?" she exclaimed, noting with surprise the long strip of paper on the bed cover. Miss Bunty smiled. "I began early this morning, my dear, like Mrs Sinclair asked us to, and —look!" "But what is it?" Mrs Smith asked incredulously. "My blessings!"
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"0-oh!" said Mrs Smitli, and her j ice sounded Hat. For a moment e seemed too much taken back to oceed, then she Lve ought you one or twc> ot my little imc-madc rolls." The invalid gave a little excited y.. "Oh, my dear, another blessing, on kind soul! But wait a minute, must put it down." Mrs Smith watched the poor criped hand writing with such diffiilly, and then she asked in a somehat husky voice: "Would you ind me looking over your list?" "Not a bit, my dear, only I'm 'raid you won't understand some l the things." "I don't think I'll understand any f them," said Mrs Smith, grimly. Such a sufferer, and scarcely ever ut of pain, where do your blessigs come in?" Miss Bunty closed her eyes and mi led. "Ah! You'd scarcely believe how ;iany there are!" When Mrs Smith had read to> the nd of that amazing list, her eyes vere smarting. Bidding her neighjour a hasty "Good-night," she went jack home. The cottage was very quiet, and >itting down rather heavily, she jlosed her eyes, and thought of the Irst blessing on poor Miss Bunty's paper, "Nearly three hours' sleep [luring the night!" It came home to Mrs Smith very forcibly that she hardly ever knew what- it meant to wake, from the time she dropped asleep each night, until the alarmclock woke her in the morning. "Able to put on my stockings without so much pain!" The cobbler charged 6d instead of 9d lor the patch on my shoe." As she sat alone, cine by one Miss Bunty's blessings came back to her mind, and a tear trickled down her nose. More followed, but somehow She couldn't hel]D them. The following day there were a sheet of paper and a pencil on the Smith's dresser. Every now and then the busy housewife wrote something down. By bed time there was a good deal of writing on the paper. Mrs Smith looked at it wonderingly. / "To think I never understood that they were all blessings," she pondered . "God hatli not promised skies ever blue, Flower-strewn pathways always for you ; God hath not promised sun without rain, Joy without sorrow, peace without pain. But God has promised strength from above, Unfailing sympathy, undying love."
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Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 5, Issue 31, 20 March 1942, Page 2
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778Thoughtful Moments Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 5, Issue 31, 20 March 1942, Page 2
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