 The Mutual Broadcasting System, in cooperation with Family Theater Incorporated, presents God and a Red Scooter, starring Robert Mitchum and Susan Peters. Gregory Peck is your host. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of. Tonight, Family Theater celebrates its first anniversary. As host of the birthday program, I want to say a sincere thanks to our radio audience on behalf of all associated with Family Theater. A sincere thanks to you for the wonderful response you've given to the program during the past year. Your letters have been a real encouragement to all who have helped in making these broadcasts possible. And they are possible because so many of us believe in the principles of Family Theater. We believe in the need for trust and faith in God, which must be part of our everyday living if we are to find the meaning and the true purpose of life. We believe that today there is a great need to strengthen family life in America, because only a vigorous, wholesome, and moral home life will keep our American way of life. And we are convinced that the daily practice of family prayer is the surest way to family peace, the surest way to happiness and understanding in our home. These are the simple convictions of Family Theater, the convictions so many of us share because we know that a prayerful home is a happy home. Gregory Peck will return after tonight's play, God and a Red Scooter starring Robert Mitchum and Susan Peters. Sleep is beautiful. Sleep is a soft hand smoothing the frowns and frets on the tired faces of men. Sleep is a mother hand rocking the cradle of the world, rocking it softly, rocking men and women and all the little children to sweet silence and peace. That's what sleep is. Do you want to know something? I'll tell you. I pity the man who does not know how to sleep. Consider little Eddie, five years old. I love little children like Eddie. Eddie knows how to sleep. Before he went to bed tonight, he was having a talk all by himself down there in the garden. This is the way he spoke this afternoon as he sat dropping pebbles into a milk bottle. And you know what I said, God? You know what I said to Daddy? I said, God did hear me. That's what I said. And God, remember when I said, please give me a Red Scooter like Stevie and Tony got? Remember when I said that about the Scooter? Didn't you hear me, God? Lots of pebbles, a whole million. See why I love little children like Eddie? He wanted a Red Scooter. He went to sleep dreaming of a Red Scooter. And did he get the Scooter? I think you'll have to tell you the whole story. The manner of speaking the story begins with grapes. Jeanne, give me a minute. From this hill you get a pretty good idea how it looks. Oh, the vines are beautiful, Ed. Nice dark green. Here, let me hold Eddie for you. Be careful of his back, Eddie. It's so wiggly. I got him. Is that our land all the way to the road? Straight, clean to Route 99. That's 26 acres of good grapewood, Jeanne. You want to make you feel kind of glad just to look at it? Oh, yes. It almost makes you want to laugh and cry in the same breath, Ed. Standing here like this and looking down on our own land. A very own vineyard. Oh, it's nice to own something, Ed. Yeah. Cost me a lot of jack, too. But it's worth it. One of the grapes we grow in, Ed. Oh, three years. Takes at least three years. Oh, it seems so long to wait. I mean, you'd think they'd just pop out. Oh, not grapes, Jeanne. You got to build up grapes. You got to work a vineyard. After three years, you know what it's going to be like down there? What? They're going to be out there on the wire trellises, those grapes. They're going to be hanging thick and heavy near the redwood stakes. When the harvest comes, we're going to be packing in over 200 tons of the best red emperors in California. 200 tons from only 26 acres? Yep. Oh, it's almost like a miracle head. Even little Ed knows a good vineyard when he sees one. Just think, Eddie will be three years old when we start picking our grapes. Yeah. And he'll be walking. Yeah, it takes time for kids and grapes to grow. These plans, these husband and wife plans, spoken in sunny places are delightful. Invariably delightful. But I must repeat, I pity the man who does not know how to sleep. Just listen to him. Maybe I made a mistake. It's risky business. It's a gamble putting all your money into grapes. The man is worrying, mind you, at one o'clock in the morning. Could be a shrinkage, could be a bad market, and then I just can't afford to bump into a tough market. Look at him fidgeting with pencils and papers and doubts. Emperors should sell. Munson said emperors was a good grape. But I don't know, maybe he should have stocked up with muskets or rabies. Norton did all right last year with rabies. All this at one o'clock in the morning when he should be asleep with his wife and babies. He would think the gentleman might allow himself the gentle privilege of getting tired. At least by one o'clock in the morning he'd think he might yawn and go to bed. Why doesn't he stop fretting? Why doesn't he relax? Poor fellow, I pity the man who does not know how to sleep. You're not getting enough rest, Ed. Now don't start fussing again, Jean. Well, you know what the doctor said. All this worrying will only make you... Worrying happens to be part of a great deal. Besides, a fellow's got a right to get excited over his first harvest. We're picking in three weeks. But you're losing weight. You're not sleeping. What's eating you anyway, Jeanie? Oh, Eddie, we do have so much... a house and babies and... Go ahead. What are you trying to say? Well, if anything ever happened to you, I mean, well, I mean, grapes aren't everything, Eddie. Not if you're going to keep losing your health and everything. That's what's worrying you? Yes. Look, Jeanie, I'm trying to figure this out. Maybe 15, 20 years from now, we'll want to take it easy. We want a better house than this. And the kids, well, we got to get an education. College. Every kid we have goes to college. And then, maybe someday, you and me will take a trip, Jeanie. All the way to Holland, maybe. You always said you'd like to see kids in wooden shoes. It's so nice to hear you talk like that, Ed. All right. That's the picture. Now, do you know what's painting that picture? What? Grapes. You see those grapes out there tonight? I put four years into them. Every cent we own is on those grapes. And right now, this minute, I figure we got over 230 tons on those vines. They'll be ready for the lug boxes in three weeks. If anything goes wrong with them, Jeanie, well, it's going to put an awful big dent in things. Nothing's going to go wrong with the grapes, Ed. A lot of things can go wrong with them. The trouble with you, Ed, is that you haven't got enough faith. Listen, Jeanie, you do the praying and let me look after the grapes, will you? Well, that's the way it is with some people. Their heads are forever spinning plans and projects. Their heads go whirling with tremendous worries about tomorrow, then the next day, and the next day. They're forever building barns and castles at one o'clock in the morning when they should be asleep. You'd think Edward might have a little more confidence in me. You'd think he'd stop worrying for the space of a quiet sleep and let me look after the grapes. For I do have a way with grapes, with vines and branches. Understand me, I'm not against plans and projects. I find no fault with the sweat on the man's brow. For labor's a magnificent and courageous thing. I'm talking rather about something that is more courageous than labor. I'm talking about relaxation, about confidence and trust and faith in me. I like the man who sleeps. I love the man who relaxes and who like a child rests easily in the arms of my providence. Not so with Edward. Edward is too full of plans, as if the plans of men were merely the plans of men. Listen to him. Sure, I'm ready to start, Camel. My grapes can't wait. Where are those pickers you promised me? Coming up the valley as fast as we can, Ed. Don't blow your top, man. You got enough pickers for me? All you need. Only give me time. How soon do you figure to make it? We'll be cutting your vines by the 17th. I'll guarantee that. Okay, only make it fast. Fast as I can. Now I like vineyards. Vineyards in the food of the vine. Thick clustered grapes all bursting black and purple in the harvest time. These are among some of the lovelier aspects of my creation. I bear no grudges against vineyards, having regard for the littlest grape. But once in a while by design, I have an eternal distaste for the haphazard and the fortuitous. Once in a while by design, clouds will gather for a reason sufficient to the ultimate purpose of things. I gather a breeze at Burbank to scoop a cool breath off the high seers. Northeasterly mygeals go playing with the canyon dust in the sea sands at San Diego. And quite suddenly, quite perceptibly, there's a mist in the Midlands, in the valley of the San Gabriel, and out around the mountains, down from the mountains, down around the flatlands of San Fernando. Or is it any surprise that there is mist also in the eyes of a woman Fresno? It won't rain, Ed. Don't keep staring out the window. You heard what it said on the radio. But this is just mist, Ed. You know how it is with mist. They come and go. It'll be dry tomorrow. The grapes will be dry. Wait and see. Listen. It's only a little flurry of rain here. Listen. Will you please? Listen. God won't spoil everything by letting it rain now, Ed. I know he won't. Oh, God. Don't let it rain. God won't let it rain. Don't let it hurt you. Three days. Three days to harvest and look at it tonight. I wonder how the boys feel tonight over at Del Ray and Sierra Madre. Yeah. I wonder if their luck boxes are floating around in the vineyards, too. Go inside with your sisters, Eddie. Go inside. You work for years. Prune. Cultivate. You put every red scent you own into grapes, and what do you get? Wash out. A man ain't supposed to cry. Believe me, I hold no grudges against vineyards. I like vineyards. But more than all the vineyards in the world I like man. I love man. I know man well. Yet never do I cease to wander at him. He's capable of so much of kindness, of charity, and of sacrifice. And yet so often he is incapable of hope. All things you can ask of him at times save this. A little faith. A little confidence. It was so with you, Edward. It was so with you those nights. What are you so jittery about, Ed? Heck, man, you're gonna do all right. You got a nice crop out there. Yeah, I had a nice crop last year, too, Camel. I get last year. That was plain freak weather. I've been around vineyards for over 30 years, and I never saw... Okay, okay. You got your pickers ready to start for me tomorrow? Best pickers I got. Looks at them vines, Ed. I'm guaranteed. They'll be cutting 300 lugs a day. Okay, be seeing you tomorrow, Camel. Jeannie! Oh, Jeannie, I got a surprise for you and the kids. Yeah, I wonder if she's lying down again. I know I'd find you in here, lazy bones. Jeannie, I want to take you and... Yeah, what's the matter, Jeannie? Tired, Ed. You don't look good. You don't look good at all. Maybe I better get Doc Hanley for you. Wait a minute, Ed. It's funny. Somehow, I've always had a feeling I'd be lying here like this, talking here like this, telling you sooner or later... What are you talking about? Ed, I'll be leaving you for a while. Now, look here. You just run down. Doc Hanley will have you fixed up on a jiffy. Come here, Ed. Sit on the bed. Now, look at me. Do I look scared? No, you don't look scared, but you look... Somehow, I know exactly how it's going to be. Maybe you better start praying for me yet. Don't leave me alone, Eddie. Don't ever leave me alone. Just keep praying for me, and maybe we'll still take that trip someday. You and me. We'll go first class, huh? All the way to Holland to see the tulips. And the kids with the little wooden shoes. What about it, Doc? As far as I know, and remember, I'm only one doctor. There's nothing much that can be done for Jeannie, Ed. All right. I'll get it. I'll get the best specialists in the country if I have to. Go right ahead. By the way, you can go in and see her now. She's conscious again. Hello, Jeannie kid. Hello, Ed. You're looking pretty good, Jeannie. Your face is still beautiful, honey. How are the kids? Good. Listen, Jeannie, I was just talking to Doc Hanley. I know, Ed. It's all right. I'm going to get you the best specialists in the country. Ed. Yeah? I asked you to do something for me once. Remember? Okay, Jeannie. You asked me to pray. Look, I'll get down on my knees right now. Do you really want me to start praying? No. No, not that one. Now, look, if I have to kidnap a half dozen of the best doctors, I'll do it. You're going to get better, Jeannie. You hear me, honey? You're going to get better. You'll be out of here before you know it. Excuse me for barging in like this, doctors. What did you find? We're doing everything possible, sir. You'll have to be patient. Yeah. Yeah, that's what everybody says, be patient. Why don't you go home and rest? Get a little sleep. Sleep? Not now. I can't sleep now. I'll do it for you. Right here in this church, I'll do it for you. Are you listening, God? I don't know the words you're supposed to use, but it's from the bottom of my heart. I'm praying for Jeannie. I can't lose her, God. Not now. We got kids, God. Three kids. We're trying to make a go of it with grapes. You got to hear me, God. You got to make Jeannie well. Please, God. Please, I'm asking you from the bottom of my heart. Nothing? Mom's sick, huh? Yeah. I got pebbles. Look. Put them in the milk bottle. 16, 12, 17? Why don't you ask God to send Mom home, huh? Want me to ask God for you, huh, Daddy? 56, 57. Huh, Daddy? Maybe God's got cotton in his ears, Eddie. Cotton? Yeah. You can't hear so good with cotton in your ears. He can hear me. That so? Yep. Once he didn't hear you, Eddie. When? Remember when you asked him for that scooter? Yeah, a red scooter. Well, God didn't hear your prayers then, Eddie. Yes, he did. God did hear my prayers. Come over here. You're up on my knee. Now, what did you say? I said, God did hear my prayers. That's so. What did he say to you? God said, he said, no. Sometimes God says, no. Huh, Daddy? What's the matter, Daddy? What's the matter, huh? Hello? Is this the resident's... Yes, yes, nurse. What's the news? Well... Nurse? Nurse? Operator, I've been cut off. Operator, get me Mercy Hospital. The line's dead. I don't know... God, I don't know how to pray to you. I tried, Jeannie. So help me, I tried. You can't die, Jeannie. Not alone, not up there in that room alone. You can't die on me, Jeannie. All right, God, you got me where you want me. Listen to me. Please, you gotta listen now. Sure, I want Jeannie. When you love somebody, you don't want to see them die. You want to have them... God, you want to have them close enough to put your arms around. Okay, maybe I did want her. Maybe I did want you to say yes. Just like I wanted you to say yes to that first harvest. Sometimes you'd say no, too. If that's the way it's gonna be, well... Well, all right. You're the boss. I'm admitting it. You're the boss. Only listen to me now. I don't want Jeannie to die all alone without me. You hear me, God? I can take it. I can take anything only. Only don't let it be all alone for Jeannie. I'm asking you, God. Honest, God, I'm asking you. Jeannie. Hello, Eddie. What? You're not... You're smiling at me, Jeannie. You're looking at me, talking to me. Put your arms around me and stop looking like a baby. Maybe. Maybe God is saying yes, Jeannie. Maybe he's saying yes. The night tonight is beautiful over California. For the first time in a long time a tired man sleeps. Resting at last in the shadow of my handy sleep. I might have said no. I have said no to some of my loveliest children, my best beloved. But know this always, Edward. There are times when my refusals are necessary to a plan you cannot understand. But a little Eddie being wiser in his innocence seems to understand. That storm upon your vineyard, that storm that drew your curse, was a blessing to a thousand other Edwards in pasture lands parched for the drought, 600 miles to the north. So tragedy, the tragedy today is but the pruning and the preparation of a lovelier tomorrow. Yes, there are times I have said no. As many fathers have said no to their dearest, their best beloved children. But tonight, tonight, Edward, I have said yes. Oh, night. Rest lightly on the tired eyes of the man. And concerning Eddie five years old, listen to him mixing his prayers tonight. Our father, who art in heaven, the Lord is with thee, and blessed is the fruit, and give us this day our daily bread, and ever and ever and ever. Amen. And send me a scooter like Stevie's car. I tell you, I've seen all the beauties of my creation. I've seen the hills gathered in the purple silences of twilight. I've seen the sunshine breaking bright on the mountains. I've seen violets bending easily in a random breeze. And I've watched the cool blue swat of the ocean for my golden green dolphins play. Yes, I've seen the smile of a mother. And I've looked into the eyes of young boys and girls in love. All good. All wonderful and good. But I tell you, there's nothing so beautiful as the small face of a child. The small lips of a child, the fumbling of prayer, getting it mixed up, getting it tangled, and sweetly muddled with sleep. Listen to him. A red scooter? All right, Eddie. It'll be a red scooter. I've willed it, Eddie. A red scooter. I'll sleep, Eddie. Sleep. This is Gregory Peck again. While listening to tonight's program, if people everywhere had sincere faith and trust in one another, because so often it's false suspicions and mistrust that begin disruptions in a home as well as among nations, yes, faith in God and trust in one another is the simple direct meaning of the words a family that prays together stays together. Before saying good night, I want to express our thanks to everyone who has participated or helped in family theater broadcast during the past year. Our thanks to all those in the recent Radio Poll who voted family theater a special honor as the outstanding program of 1947. Our thanks to the California Parent Teachers Association, which has just named family theater as the number one family program on the air today. And a special word of thanks to so many of our audience for their letters and telegrams of congratulations on family theater's first birthday. This is Gregory Peck saying good night to you all. Our thanks to Susan Peters and Robert Mitchum for their performances this evening and to Rob O'Connor for his narration. Music was scored and conducted by Max Tehr. This production of family theater incorporated was written by Timothy Mulvey and directed by David Young. Others who appeared in tonight's play were Henry Blair, Gloria Blondel, Clayton Post and Alan Harris. Next week our family theater stars will be James Craig and Barbara Hale in Out of the Wilderness. Your hostess will be Maureen O'Hara. This series of the family theater broadcast is made possible by the thousands of you who felt the need for this kind of program and the Mutual Broadcasting System which has responded to this need. Be with us next week at the same time when our family theater stars will be James Craig and Barbara Hale with Maureen O'Hara as hostess. Tony Lofrano speaking. This is the Mutual Broadcasting System.