9 cents

I share this childhood testimony, a treasured one from the neighborhood I grew up in. It took place many years ago in 1965. The story still thrills me as if I were hearing it for the first time. I do hope as you read this you will enjoy it as much as I have.

It was 5am. Mrs. B was up and had already poured her first cup of tea from her red enamel teapot. She placed the weak black tea with a slice of lemon on the readily prepared wooden tea tray. Her Bible beside her. Mrs. B was now ready to spend her first half hour quietly reading, praying, and meditating.

Mrs. B always started her morning this way. At least it was ever since she had had her own personal encounter with the miracle working power of Christ. An astounding miracle where Mrs. B had been completely physically healed of a serious lung disease and a goiter so enlarged that it caused the cross on the chain her husband had given her to be embedded tightly around her throat. Mrs. B had been so weak, her husband had to carry her to a church meeting at the town hall. At the end of the meeting she went out for prayer and during the prayer, she felt the cross slip down her neck and the goiter disappeared. The healing was so noticeable and talked about that the Africans gave her a special name, which meant in English “The picture that God made.”

Having had such an amazing healing touch, her faith in God was rock solid. She had therefore learnt to pray daily; to be still, listen and act. What was different and disturbing or pressing on this particular morning was a persistent, urgent, intrusive thought.

“Send Joy 9 cents!” She tried to shake it off as it seemed strange. However, repetitively, and unrelentingly it came again “Send Joy 9 cents!” She started to engage with the thought. How ridiculous it was. How rude it may come across. How could she send just nine cents? Nevertheless, she could get no relief.

Mrs. B reached for an envelope, placed nine cents in it and wrote:

“Dear Joy, I have no idea why, but I think the Lord wants me to send you 9 cents.”

She called out to Samson, her gardener, who started work at 6am, and asked him if he would run the letter around the corner to Joy’s house on Edgely Road.

Joy was her friend. A woman with four young sons all under the age of ten. The family were experiencing serious financial hardship. That morning, they were busily preparing for school. It was school photograph day and all three boys needed money for the photos.

Joy was anxious about this and had rummaged through every bag, purse, drawer, every nook, and cranny for the money they needed. She counted it up and was 9 cents short! “We are 9 cents short” she told her family. Well said the youngest very naturally from the breakfast table, “Why don’t we just ask Jesus for it?” Joy and her husband looked at each other, their hearts fainted a little. They had taught their sons that God hears us when we pray. However, here during this shortfall of nine cents and the school bell, they had a wave of doubt. Nevertheless, gingerly, they said, “Yes, let’s pray.” And the family bowed their heads and prayed. They were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. The gardener stood there and passed Joy the envelope. She thanked Samson and opened the envelope and read the note inside. “Dear Joy, I have no idea why, but I think the Lord wants me to send you 9 cents.”

No one ever forgot those photos which were provided for from a little boy’s mustard seed of faith, over a bowl of corn flakes.

“Before they call, I will answer. “

Being obedient to the prompting of the Holy Spirit was also a part of this testimony of God’s intimate relationship with us. This story lives on and has encouraged me often. It really is time folks, for another cup of tea.      

Story retold by Ann

Checking the facts …

The 9 cents story as I mentioned earlier was a precious one, told to me by my mother. Teacup stories is a collection of true stories and for this reason it was vital to double check the facts. I wondered if I could find my old school friend to do so, bearing in mind 51 years had past since we had last seen each other.

I decided to do a Facebook search and to my delight I found him straight away. Even stranger was the fact that we had both immigrated to Australia and he lived only 15 mins away from me.

I explained to him I had drafted a story about his family, and I wanted to check the facts. He was keen to meet, and we chatted via Facebook messenger about school days and his journey from then on. In our conversations, no mention was made of which story needed fact checking. We arranged to meet; however, several factors delayed the meeting. One of them was the passing away of his beloved father and another was his need to care for his grieving mother. He told me when I first made contact, he had mentioned to both his mother and father I had done so. Both were pleased to hear this and remembered us all very well.

Finally, we caught up and he thanked me for reminding him of the story and said the strange thing was that the minister had shared the exact same story at his father’s recent funeral. He said there were only a few corrections needed. One, was the amount, which was twenty-five cents and not nine cents and that there are three brothers and not four. However, I think most importantly was the last correction, which was it was not his youngest brother that prayed but it was him. He thanked me again for the reminder.

I have reconnected with his mother Joy. It is as if no time has passed. It is a beautiful friendship with Joy who has recently turned ninety and, nevertheless, seems ageless to me. We drink tea and chat and remember the days when she, my mother and Mrs. B would do the same. She fondly remembers the friendships and the testimonies of the goodness of God and His miraculous provisions.

I simply had to check the facts and share this wonderful full cycle with you.