SHE HAD LEARNED HER ABC'S

I received this in the mail today, and it's just too good not to share.

She was old, she was miserably poor, this widowed mother of a worthless son. The house she lived in was badly in need of repair. The thatch of the roof was full of holes, and the crossbeam, dovetailed in the middle, had become loosened and hung precariously; but to the shiftless son it was no concern.

One day he came running into the house announcing the coming of a great storm. "Mother, get out your incense and burn to the idols," he shouted, "a big windstorm is coming."

But the old mother was a Christian, and had learned to trust her heavenly Father. "No," she replied, "my Father knows I do not have any money to pay a carpenter to fix the crossbeam, and He knows I am too poor to have a new thatch put on the roof. I will trust Him." Whereupon she fell upon her knees and committed herself and her house to her Father's care. She had learned the ABC's of prevailing prayer. She "Asked," she fearlessly "Believed," and "Cast" all her care upon Him.

The threatening windstorm burst in fury upon the village. It proved to be a whirlwind, which in its first impact gave the little old house a violent wrench and drove the two dangling ends of the crossbeam snugly together again, and so tightly that a carpenter could not have improved upon it. Fuerthermore, a straw stack, standing in an adjoining yard, was picked up by the whirlwind and scattered over the leaky roof, with the result that in the drenching rain that followed not a drop came through.

"I knew," she said in triumph, "my Father would not fail me." Anon

Preacher's Kid