Little Jem

     I watched her enter the room with a frightened look on her face. So pale and small, she trembled at her strange surroundings, looking like she wanted to run and hide like a scared animal. Yet, she stood firm and did not run, as if she was holding onto in inner Strength that none of knew of, but would discover over time. 

     I thought back to the day I had arrived in the same house ten years before, and I had been scared too. I did not know how the master and his wife would treat me, but my circumstances had been different. I was from the same country as they were, but my parents were poor and needed money so they had sent me to the market to be sold as a servant. I had been determined to run away the first moment I had a chance, but it did not take me long to learn that my new master and his wife were extremely generous and gentle. They never mistreated their servants and I learned to love them as the years went on. 
      The situation with this newcomer was extremely different though. She was a captive from Israel, a country that we had fought for years and Captain Naaman had brought her back after his last attack on our enemy. Torn from her family and the country that she loved, this little girl was going to struggle as she missed her family. I did not even know if her family was still alive or if they had died in the struggle. Why did the Captain choose
this particular child? What did he see in her that caused him to choose to let her live while thousands of others had died? It was a mystery to me. 
     “Sheena,” the mistress called my name. “This is Jemima, my new maid. Show her to her quarters, where you can feed and clean her up. I will be requiring her help after the dinner meal.”
     “Yes, ma’am,” I bowed respectfully.    
     She left the room and I turned to the shaking girl. “Come, little one, I will show you to your quarters.” I held out my hand, but she did not move toward me. I frowned. I knew she could not act this way when told to do something or else things might not go well for her. That was when I looked at her face. Her eyes were closed and her mouth moved, but no sound came out.      
      “Child, what are you doing? We must not dawdle. I have work to do!”
      Jemima opened her eyes. “I was praying, ma’am. Sorry if I kept you from doing what you need to, but I needed to ask my Lord for strength to do what I need to do here.”
     She caught me off guard, but the moment quickly passed. “Well, pray as we walk. There is never any time to waste in our work for Master Naaman and his wife.” I pulled her along the dimly lit hallway until we reached the servants’ quarters behind the kitchen. 
     “Here is where you will be sleeping. There is water in the basin on the table where you can wash up. After, come into the kitchen and I will get you some bread and cheese to fill your empty belly.”
     The next few months passed quickly as Jemima, or Little Jem, as we liked to call her, learned her duties and helped the mistress in any way the little girl could. Little Jem was a rare child. She possessed a strength that nobody in our household had. I never saw her disobey, nor did she ever publicly cry for what she had been forced to leave behind in Israel. For a girl of nine years old, she had something that I yearned for. She claimed it was all her God’s doing – Jehovah was His name, and He was her help in time of need. Better yet, she said He was her help during every minute of the day or night. 
      The mistress learned to trust her completely, and even took her to attend important meetings with the King of Syria. Naaman was a captain of the king’s army and he was often invited to huge banquets with the king. Little Jem went to attend Naaman’s wife during these feasts and it was not long before she was highly talked about by everyone in the king’s court. Little Jem’s attitude stood out among everyone else, and her behavior never faltered. We all marveled at her faith in God. When questioned by one of her fellow servants, she would simply say that her God was the only God, the One Whom had created the earth, sun, and every person. I found it hard to believe that only one God could have done all that work, but by her actions of obedience and love, she showed a devotion and love unlike any other I had ever known.  
      Is it a wonder that a year later, when we heard the bad news regarding our master that her words were taken so seriously? 
     There was a lot of whispering among the servants. Bad news always spreads quickly and soon we all had heard the chilling news: Master Naaman was sick with leprosy! We went about our work with extra quiet steps, afraid to upset the mistress even more than she was already. She cried a lot and seemed so discouraged. Doctor after doctor visited the house, but always left with the same grim diagnosis: nothing could be done. Naaman would have to leave his beautiful home and go live in a leper colony with other people with the same disease, and eventually die with horrible deformations.   
     Sobbing, our mistress lay on her bed inconsolable. Little Jem was by her side, patting her arm and trying to comfort her. With a soft voice and a tender touch, Little Jem said, “Would God my Lord were with the prophet that is in Samaria! For he would recover him of his leprosy!” 
     I was folding sheets in the corner, so I overheard every word. I paused in my work and waited, hope springing in my heart. Was it possible that there was someone out there who could help Master Naaman? 
     Mistress looked up at Little Jem. She stared in disbelief. “Are you saying that someone can actually do something for my husband and make him better?”
     “Yes, my lady. There is a prophet from where I come from that has performed miracles before. God has given him the ability and he has healed people.”
     Mistress glanced over to me and said excitedly, “Sheena, go to Naaman and tell him Jem’s words. He must go and find this man at once!”
     I hurried out of the room and found Master Naaman outside under a tree. He saw me coming and put his hand up as if to shield me from his sickness. 
     “Stop, Sheena, you must not come any closer.”
     “Yes, sir, but sir, I have a message for you from the mistress.”
     “Tell me from where you are standing.” 
      I related Little Jem’s message and upon hearing the words he jumped up.
     “It must be as she says! Little Jem would not lie about such things! I must send a message to the king and get his help in this matter!” 
     Another servant was sent out immediately and brought back a message from the king of Syria saying, “Go to, and bring this letter, written personally from me, to the King of Israel. And may you return completely whole so I can have my strong, reliable, captain of the army back in my command.”
     What irony, that the very land we had raided and taken captives was where we sought help from. Would they even be willing to help this great captain of an enemy army?  With a great many servants, gifts, and chariots, Master Naaman set off on the long journey. Would he come back healed of his disease? We would not find out for many days, maybe even weeks. Yet, it was Little Jem, who was so sure of her God that kept us going, believing that God would be faithful. Her radiant smile affected us all and encouraged us to believe too. 
     Can you imagine our joy when Master Naaman and his entourage returned and we discovered that Little Jem’s God had healed our master and made his skin look as fresh and new as a baby’s? Without hesitation, Master Naaman called all of us together and announced that we would only be serving and worshipping the God of Israel from this day forward. He even took out a bag of dirt and dumped it into the courtyard of his home and told us it was the dirt from the land of Israel, where he was shown the true way to go. And all because of one little girl, Little Jem, did we see this mighty miracle. See how God can use even the youngest ones in our midst to bless us, change us, and show us the way that we should go.