Star of Light by Patricia M. St. John Page B

the great rocks, throwing stones at the monkeys. So frightened was he of meeting his stepfather that he stayed there till long after sunset and missed the boys’ meeting for the first time in many weeks.
    The police, when they heard the story, were polite and sympathetic but not very hopeful. They promisedto telephone the government outposts in the mountains to watch the main tracks and check up on travelers. But even if the child was found, what was there to prove that she did not belong to her captors?
    There was no more they could do, so they went sorrowfully back to Aunt Rosemary’s house to have some tea. But none of them felt hungry, and after a while Mr. and Mrs. Swift got up to go. Jenny, pale and wretched, followed them, still not daring to look at her aunt, who had actually hardly given her naughtiness a thought yet. She was far too worried about what could have happened to Kinza.
    Rosemary was glad to be left alone. She carried out the tea things and then came back into her little room and knelt down, meaning to pray for Kinza. But the kitten sprang up beside her, mewing for its little playmate, and under the cushion on which she rested her arms was something hard and knobby— Kinza’s wooden doll. She gazed around the room, and there was Kinza’s ball, Kinza’s mat, Kinza’s box of sweets that Jenny had given her. Everywhere she looked, there were signs of the missing, loved little girl, and Rosemary suddenly laid her head down on her arms and cried. Where was Kinza? What was happening to her? How terrified and homesick she would be, how helpless in her blind darkness! “Oh, God,” she cried, “take care of her; don’t let her be hurt or afraid; bring her back safely to me.”
    As she prayed she heard a little sob behind her and realized she was not alone in the room. She looked up quickly, and there in the doorway stood Jenny, white-faced and swollen-eyed with crying.
    “Jenny!” exclaimed Rosemary. “Does your Mummy know you’ve come?”
    “Yes,” said Jenny with a gulp. “I said I must see you alone, so Mummy brought me back to the door. You forgot to lock it, so I just came in, and she says please will you see me home when you’ve finished with me. I don’t suppose you want to see me at all … because … because … it was all my fault about Kinza. Oh, Auntie, whatever shall I do?”
    The last words came out with a rush of fresh tears, and Rosemary drew the trembling girl into the room, shut the door, and sat down beside her.
    “You can’t do anything, Jenny,” she said gently, “but God loves Kinza far more than we do, and He can do everything. Let’s kneel down and ask God together to shelter little Kinza and comfort her and keep her safe.”
    So they knelt side by side, and Rosemary prayed that Jesus would protect Kinza. Jenny listened and wondered, more miserable than she had ever been before.
It’s all very well for Aunt Rosemary
, she thought. When dreadful things happened to her, she had a place where she could find forgiveness and peace and comfort. But Jenny knew no such refuge. She felt shut out in the dark. She would never forgive herself, and neither would anyone else, if Kinza was really lost.
    For the first time in her life, her naughtiness had really mattered, and there seemed no escape from the terrible results of it. Nearly every day she was self-willed and lost her temper if she couldn’t get what she wanted. But Mummy and Daddy were alwaysnice and understanding about it, and remembered that, after all, she had been ill for three months. Now she had gone her own way and disobeyed once too often.
    If only Kinza could come back
, said Jenny to herself,
I would never be disobedient or naughty again. I’d be good forever and ever
.

Rescue Plans

    R osemary spent most of the next day trying to trace Hamid, but Hamid was apparently determined not to be traced. Why should the English nurse want him urgently just then? Perhaps his stepfather had spoken to her and she was