What a horse taught me about charity

When I first began studying Biblical Hebrew and Greek, I learned about the ancient meaning of words like virtue, truth, justice, faith, light, wisdom and many others. These words have many shades of meaning that can’t always be captured fully by a translation.

One of the most interesting words was tzedakah, a Hebrew word usually translated as “righteousness.” This word was always connected with the law of Moses, which offered the Israelites a blueprint for a just and good society in which the poor, the widowed, the orphaned and the stranger were all provided for and given equality under law. As a result, righteousness became synonymous with charity.

Today, many people think of charity as giving money to organizations that will meet the needs of people in trouble of some kind, whether they be nearby or far away. And that is one facet of good works.

But in Biblical times, pre-CNN and Internet, charity tended to be more local. It was the tender deed done to help another; the presence of a friend in sorrow, sickness or need; the kindly gift, the willingness to foster a child whose parents were not able to provide; and even giving one’s life for one’s friends. So to be righteous really means to fulfill the law with lovingkindness.

At the same time, I was studying Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures by Mary Baker Eddy, which illuminated this Biblical concept for me with the thought, “The rich in spirit help the poor in one grand brotherhood, all having the same Principle, or Father; and blessed is that man who seeth his brother's need and supplieth it, seeking his own in another's good.” This was the most magnificent and high ideal I could imagine, and I longed to practice it.

As so often happens when new ideas enlarge our vision, I began to learn about this kind of righteousness through experience as well as from study. One day I bought a raffle ticket from a private school that I often passed on foot, partly to support them, and partly because the prize was a new car.

Now the truth was that I didn’t want a new car, but I liked the school and wished them well, and if I happened to win the car, I thought that wouldn’t hurt. But at the same time, I didn’t feel totally comfortable with relying on “chance” to meet my transportation needs.

So on the night of the raffle, I called my uncle, who practiced spiritual healing, and confessed I had a ticket. He pretty firmly told me to “just forget it” because he understood that no real good comes by chance—that God is the source of good. Divine law provides and cares for all without partiality or exception.

After talking with my uncle, I spent quite a while praying for the school’s needs, and then, since I had the opportunity to be so perfectly honest with God, I added that I really didn’t want a car at all, but just a beautiful horse like those ones that took Elijah to heaven in II Kings, chapter 2!

About six months later, I went to see a friend who used to breed lovely Arabian horses. She took me to the paddocks behind the barn and called her six weanlings up from the field. Just as they came thundering around us, I scooped up my little dog, Wuffy. I was still clutching Wuffy when a friendly youngster came right over, lifted the dog’s long ear to nuzzle her cheek and then accepted a pat from me.

My friend told me about one of her mares, whom she called Love. I began to boil with excitement because I am quite a believer in St. John’s saying, “God is Love.” I asked her if Love had a baby amongst these around us? Yes, she was the very filly who was kind to Wuffy and me.

The filly’s sire was Magna Terra Rajah, and as my friend went on to describe him, I was furiously translating from Latin and Arabic to arrive at “King of the Great Earth.” Her mother is Love and her father is the King of the Great Earth! I couldn’t help but think back to the time when I’d prayed for the school—and asked God for a horse. It really seemed like my prayer was being answered.

Of course the price sheets on the foals were way beyond my budget, but just then a call came from the man who had delivered five tons of hay that day. I could hear my friend’s side of the conversation—okay, she would have the money on Monday. A heavy silence reigned as she hung up the phone.

I felt impelled to ask her if she would be willing to sell the filly to me if I could give her a down payment sufficient to cover the cost of the hay. And so before I left the ranch that Sunday, I had a highly lenient contract on an Arabian filly I had already named Charity of God, in honor of the night I prayed for her while I was praying for the school’s success.

I’m still grateful I prayed not to win the car, but only for the good of the school, because that honest standpoint of prayer brought into my life something ineffably true and right.

I will tell just one way in which Charity caused me to live up to that best sense of righteousness that seeks one’s own in another’s good. About a year later, I was in graduate school and received a full scholarship for the next year. So I took the money I had saved for tuition and went to my friend with the final payment for Charity.

As she signed over her papers to me together with the bill of sale, she said, “The taxes on the farm are due, and I’ve been praying. And praise the Lord, you’ve given me exactly the sum I need.”

One grand brotherhood:

Science and Health
518:15-19

King James Bible
Rom. 13:8-10
II Kings 2:11