The Knotted Handkerchief
"All that she had.””—Luke xxi. 4.
John Eliot was a minister and a missionary, the first missionary to the American Indians.
It was away back in 1646. He met the Indians in the wigwam of Waban, a great man among the Indians, and John Eliot talked to them about the Gospel for three hours—a pretty long sermon—and when he had finished telling them about God’s great love for them, there were tears in many eyes and people tell us that Indians never cry; but that is not true. Indians are much like other people and it is a great pity that early in the history of our country there were not more men like John Eliot, who loved them well enough to
teach them about God, for then they would have been helpers and not hinderers in what we call the path of progress. The Indians were
strong and brave and made wonderful fighters in time of war, but if they had learned to love as they had learned to hate they would
have been equally strong to fight against sin as good soldiers of our Lord Jesus.
John Eliot taught hundreds of Indians to read and pray, and they loved him. It was in the state of Massachusetts that he lived and worked among his Indian people, and there they built a town and called it Noonatoman or “ Rejoicing”’—the name spoke their joy and happiness in hearing and knowing the Gospel.
Indian names are hard, queer names but John Eliot learned their language. Think of saying Noowamantammooonkanunonnash
when you try to tell people you “love” them, for that is the word for “love.” And they “loved” John Eliot. They could not help loving him.
He was kind to them. He called them his “ Praying Indians.”
He was kind to the poor whether they were Indians or white people, for he was the pastor of a little church where white people worshipped, as well as being a missionary to the Indians. One day the little church had paid him his month’s salary and knowing how kind and generous he was to the poor they had tied it up in a handkerchief and tied it as tight as they could. First the two opposite corners were tied in a knot and then the other two corners and then the ends were knotted and knotted, until they were too short to knot. It looked like a home-made baseball for a little boy.
On his way home he visited a family that was very poor. There was nothing in the house and the little children were hungry. The missionary prayed with them, but he was not satisfied to pray and leave. Out from his pocket in his coat-tail he drew his knotted handkerchief to give them a little money. First he tried to untie the knots with his fingers, then with his teeth, then with both his fingers and his teeth but he could not undo them. One wonders why he did not cut the handkerchief with his knife but I guess he did not think of that. Vexed and impatient because he could not untie the knots he gave the poor woman everything, money and handkerchief, knots and all, saying to her, “The dear Lord must have meant it all for you.” No wonder people loved him, and no wonder there were 3,600 praying Indians in his parish before God called him into rest. And this was the motto of his life :-—
"Prayer and Pains
Through Faith in Jesus Christ
Will do anything.”
- Hugh T. Kerr in his book Children’s Missionary Story-Sermons
"All that she had.””—Luke xxi. 4.
John Eliot was a minister and a missionary, the first missionary to the American Indians.
It was away back in 1646. He met the Indians in the wigwam of Waban, a great man among the Indians, and John Eliot talked to them about the Gospel for three hours—a pretty long sermon—and when he had finished telling them about God’s great love for them, there were tears in many eyes and people tell us that Indians never cry; but that is not true. Indians are much like other people and it is a great pity that early in the history of our country there were not more men like John Eliot, who loved them well enough to
teach them about God, for then they would have been helpers and not hinderers in what we call the path of progress. The Indians were
strong and brave and made wonderful fighters in time of war, but if they had learned to love as they had learned to hate they would
have been equally strong to fight against sin as good soldiers of our Lord Jesus.
John Eliot taught hundreds of Indians to read and pray, and they loved him. It was in the state of Massachusetts that he lived and worked among his Indian people, and there they built a town and called it Noonatoman or “ Rejoicing”’—the name spoke their joy and happiness in hearing and knowing the Gospel.
Indian names are hard, queer names but John Eliot learned their language. Think of saying Noowamantammooonkanunonnash
when you try to tell people you “love” them, for that is the word for “love.” And they “loved” John Eliot. They could not help loving him.
He was kind to them. He called them his “ Praying Indians.”
He was kind to the poor whether they were Indians or white people, for he was the pastor of a little church where white people worshipped, as well as being a missionary to the Indians. One day the little church had paid him his month’s salary and knowing how kind and generous he was to the poor they had tied it up in a handkerchief and tied it as tight as they could. First the two opposite corners were tied in a knot and then the other two corners and then the ends were knotted and knotted, until they were too short to knot. It looked like a home-made baseball for a little boy.
On his way home he visited a family that was very poor. There was nothing in the house and the little children were hungry. The missionary prayed with them, but he was not satisfied to pray and leave. Out from his pocket in his coat-tail he drew his knotted handkerchief to give them a little money. First he tried to untie the knots with his fingers, then with his teeth, then with both his fingers and his teeth but he could not undo them. One wonders why he did not cut the handkerchief with his knife but I guess he did not think of that. Vexed and impatient because he could not untie the knots he gave the poor woman everything, money and handkerchief, knots and all, saying to her, “The dear Lord must have meant it all for you.” No wonder people loved him, and no wonder there were 3,600 praying Indians in his parish before God called him into rest. And this was the motto of his life :-—
"Prayer and Pains
Through Faith in Jesus Christ
Will do anything.”
- Hugh T. Kerr in his book Children’s Missionary Story-Sermons
The Knotted Handkerchief
"All that she had.””—Luke xxi. 4.
John Eliot was a minister and a missionary, the first missionary to the American Indians.
It was away back in 1646. He met the Indians in the wigwam of Waban, a great man among the Indians, and John Eliot talked to them about the Gospel for three hours—a pretty long sermon—and when he had finished telling them about God’s great love for them, there were tears in many eyes and people tell us that Indians never cry; but that is not true. Indians are much like other people and it is a great pity that early in the history of our country there were not more men like John Eliot, who loved them well enough to
teach them about God, for then they would have been helpers and not hinderers in what we call the path of progress. The Indians were
strong and brave and made wonderful fighters in time of war, but if they had learned to love as they had learned to hate they would
have been equally strong to fight against sin as good soldiers of our Lord Jesus.
John Eliot taught hundreds of Indians to read and pray, and they loved him. It was in the state of Massachusetts that he lived and worked among his Indian people, and there they built a town and called it Noonatoman or “ Rejoicing”’—the name spoke their joy and happiness in hearing and knowing the Gospel.
Indian names are hard, queer names but John Eliot learned their language. Think of saying Noowamantammooonkanunonnash
when you try to tell people you “love” them, for that is the word for “love.” And they “loved” John Eliot. They could not help loving him.
He was kind to them. He called them his “ Praying Indians.”
He was kind to the poor whether they were Indians or white people, for he was the pastor of a little church where white people worshipped, as well as being a missionary to the Indians. One day the little church had paid him his month’s salary and knowing how kind and generous he was to the poor they had tied it up in a handkerchief and tied it as tight as they could. First the two opposite corners were tied in a knot and then the other two corners and then the ends were knotted and knotted, until they were too short to knot. It looked like a home-made baseball for a little boy.
On his way home he visited a family that was very poor. There was nothing in the house and the little children were hungry. The missionary prayed with them, but he was not satisfied to pray and leave. Out from his pocket in his coat-tail he drew his knotted handkerchief to give them a little money. First he tried to untie the knots with his fingers, then with his teeth, then with both his fingers and his teeth but he could not undo them. One wonders why he did not cut the handkerchief with his knife but I guess he did not think of that. Vexed and impatient because he could not untie the knots he gave the poor woman everything, money and handkerchief, knots and all, saying to her, “The dear Lord must have meant it all for you.” No wonder people loved him, and no wonder there were 3,600 praying Indians in his parish before God called him into rest. And this was the motto of his life :-—
"Prayer and Pains
Through Faith in Jesus Christ
Will do anything.”
- Hugh T. Kerr in his book Children’s Missionary Story-Sermons
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