The Window Seat

(Paintings from Allposters)

I have only a few moments to post these and I will come back after church and write my little story which has in it a window seat.  

Hope you have a lovely Lord's Day.

When I was about 8 years old, my father built a wood trunk that served as a window seat. I looked around the web for pictures of window seats that best represented what we had in the log house on the homestead in Alaska, and found the snow scene above that matches it almost perfectly. My parents went there in the late 1940's and built a home.

As many mothers have discovered, little girls are sometimes affected by darkness, by a boring day, or any number of things. I will call this my Gray Day because I like the color blue too much to relegate it to gloominess and depression.  My mother was sitting on the window seat and I came to her, nearly in tears.  We had not been outside of the house, nor had any company, and the radio was not even getting good reception, so it was not a very cheerful atmosphere for a girl. Daddy had been gone to work for a few weeks and was not due home for another week. At that time, mama had no car and there was just no way out.  I came to her, and asked her if there was anything I could do to dispel the awful discouragement I felt.  At the time, there were not many plush comforts in the house, and there was not even a cushion to soften the seat of that box under the window.  I longed for prettiness and a bit of luxury on that gray day..

Mama got out an old hymn book she had inside the window seat and turned to a song. It was called "I'm a Child of the King."  I had never heard it before, and was not even sure Mama was singing the tune properly because she was such an innovative person, often making up a tune if she didn't know the song at all.  I read the words along with her singing (Later I discovered she really did know the tune.)

I had expected her to come up with something  interesting that would absorb my time and attention to get my mind off the blankness of that day, perhaps in the form of writing a little book, dressing up, pretending any thing, a special event, putting on a play, sewing or knitting, or any number of things. Usually, Mama's answer to complaints of uneasiness or boredom was to put us all to work, as there was always plenty of that.  

This time, she patiently sang every word of the song, and it transformed me. There I was, sitting on a window box, learning that I was a child of a king, a princess. That was the least of it: Christ cared for me and was watching over me, and I would have the desires of my heart if they were good and profitable in a Christian way (Psalm 37:4) Mama explained each phrase of the poem, and when she got to "A tent or a cottage, why should I care?" We talked about how it did not matter what kind of house we had, we could make the best of it, and we had a great Father who owned everything.  That caused me to put aside all my worries and strive to be my best. The song told of all beauty and home. When she had finished explaining the poem, I wanted to dress up and wear a crown. It formed bright pictures of refinement In my mind. I was content.

The words are as follows:

My Father is rich in houses and lands,
He holdeth the wealth of the world in His hands!
Of rubies and diamonds, of silver and gold,
His coffers are full, He has riches untold.

Refrain

I’m a child of the King,
A child of the King:
With Jesus my Savior,
I’m a child of the King.

My Father’s own Son, the Savior of men,
Once wandered on earth as the poorest of them;
But now He is pleading our pardon on high,
That we may be His when He comes by and by.

Refrain

I once was an outcast stranger on earth,
A sinner by choice, an alien by birth,
But I’ve been adopted, my name’s written down,
An heir to a mansion, a robe and a crown.

Refrain

A tent or a cottage, why should I care?
They’re building a palace for me over there;
Though exiled from home, yet still may I sing:
All glory to God, I’m a child of the King.

Refrain