Africa
As it neared earth, Hark's cloud suddenly turned into raindrops. Hark quickly jumped off. But he still got quite wet. The rain was really fierce — a storm, in fact, complete with thunder and lightning.
"I thought Africa was a sunny place," Hark muttered to a damp bird that had also been caught in the rain. The bird, a beautiful hornbill, had great black and white wings. He spread them over Hark like an umbrella and told him not to worry.
"The rain will stop as suddenly as it started," he said. "Then the hot African sun will dry you out in no time. But you'll have to watch out for the mosquitoes. They're always looking for a snack."
The hornbill then lifted his wings and flew off. Hark hurried to snap his picture as the bird soared into the sky. He wondered what kind of snack the mosquitoes would be looking for.
Hark looked around and saw that he had landed in a field. Cattle were grazing all around him. Young boys were standing nearby tending the calves.
In the distance there were small huts with cone-shaped roofs made of straw. Smoke came out of the top of them.
"That bird was right," Hark gasped. The rain had gone and the hot, steamy ground threw a warm mist over him. "Whew! No wonder those boys aren't wearing many clothes!" he said. He put on his African shoes and walked to the village. The invisible angel looked closely at the people's faces.
"Oh," he exclaimed, "how beautiful!" He thought of the Dutch people he had visited in Holland. Their skin had been white. These African people were a lovely shade of brown. Their smooth bodies glistened and their hair was dark and curly.
"The Creator made all humans out of clay," said a voice. It was the hornbill, back again.
"I know," Hark replied. "But I'd forgotten there was such a variety to choose from."
"Oh yes," said the hornbill. "There's brown clay and white clay, red and yellow, too, and all shades in between!"
Delighted with the lovely African people, Hark returned to the pasture outside the village where the boys tended the cattle.
"Festo," said one of the bigger boys, "go on home. It's supper time. I'll take over."
"Why, this is Festo," Hark gasped. "It didn't take long to find him!"
He dug in his backpack. C.D. had packed Hark's notepad that never ran out of paper and his pencil that never needed sharpening. Hark jotted down a few notes. Then he flew to catch up with Festo. He had joined his family for supper. A goat had been killed and cooked. There were sweet potatoes, beans, and bananas, too.
What strange food, Hark thought. It's not a bit like my favorite — angel food cake! The family was also eating fresh mangoes, a tasty fruit.
"Festo, eat properly," said his mother. "The grandson of a king knows how to eat his supper!"
Hark was impressed! Festo, he discovered, was the grandson of the last king of a small nation. That little nation had become part of a bigger nation that now was called Uganda.
"But he's not rich like most kings' families," Hark observed. "Why, he spends his time taking care of calves like other boys his age."
Hark soon learned that he had gone back in time to the human year 1931. Festo was twelve years old. That was the year a missionary named Constance Hornby had come to Festo's village. Constance had come from England, thousands of miles away. She had arrived wearing a funny kind of hat called a pith helmet. She told Festo about another king, King Jesus.
Festo had loved the stories Constance told about Jesus. The young boy had welcomed Jesus into his heart. He became a child of God! Before Constance came, Festo had believed in little spirits that lived in the rocks and rivers. From Constance, Festo learned that God is the great Creator.
"Now he knows he is more than the grandson of an African king. He has become the son of heaven's King," wrote Hark. He was thrilled. He was sure Festo would start to be a hero soon.
But that did not happen. Instead, as Hark flew ahead in time, his joy about Festo would soon turn to sorrow.