A Child's Heart, page 13

That afternoon, the trio set out on a long two-day journey to the next town, where Justace knew a preacher who had been a doctor. After asking a few townsfolk for directions, they soon found the little brick parsonage where he and his wife lived. Justace rapped sharply on the door, and soon, a kind middle-aged woman appeared in the doorway and invited them in. “Peter, there are some children here to see you.” She called to her husband, who was reading in the small study. The tall, well-dressed man came in and introduced himself. “And who might you three charming youngsters be?” He asked cheerfully. “I’m Rylen, and this here is Wendol.” Rylen said as she repositioned the tired little boy on her shoulder. “And I’m Justace. We met a few years ago.” “Ah yes, Justace! I do remember you, son.” He exclaimed. He sat down in the large easy chair and motioned for them to have a seat. “Now tell me, are you kids here on business, or did you just come to visit your old pal?” Peter asked them. “Actually Sir, we’ve come to you hoping that you’ll be able to help our sick friend here.” Justace told him. “Oh! Oh I see. Well, let’s have a look at the little chap.” He said as Rylen handed Wendol to him. The preacher did a basic check up on Wendol as Rylen and Justace told him what had happened. “Hmm… it looks like this is a case of mental trauma.” He told them. “I can give him some medicine to treat the symptoms, but we’re going to have to leave the rest of the healing up to the Great Physician.” He gave them a few words of advice and a bottle of medicine, and they went on their way. Over the next few days, they prayed their hardest for Wendol, and soon he began to show signs of improvement. Justace began to go hunting early in the morning before Wendol woke up. “Today we should draw some pictures to brighten up the room a bit.” Rylen told Wendol one afternoon. She put a pile of advertisement fliers in front of him and dug a pencil stub out of her dress pocket. “All I have is a pencil, but maybe later Justace can find something colorful for you to draw with.” Wendol nonchalantly took the little pencil and began to draw on the back of the papers. “That’s very nice, Wendol. Who is it?” Rylen asked him. “It’s Justace.” He said. She smiled and asked, “Do you want me to write his name below?” Wendol nodded, and Rylen took the pencil and wrote his name. “J-u-s-t-i-c-e… there!” She said cheerfully. Later, when Justace came in he noticed the pictures hanging on the wall right away. He examined each one carefully and complimented Wendol for doing a good job. When he came to the drawing of himself, he grinned. “It looks just like me! But Ry, my name is actually spelled Just-ace. He told Rylen. “Oh…” Rylen said as she took down the paper and fixed the name. “But say, how do you know how your name is spelled if you were so young when you were abandoned?” She asked curiously as she hung the picture back on the wall. “Well; you see, in the front of my Bible it says, ‘To Justace from Dad & Mom with love’…” He got the little Bible out and showed them. “I’ve carried this around in my pocket for years. My parents must have given it to me when I was very young.”