How to Preach the Miracles
Why People Don't Believe Them and What You Can Do About It, Cycle A
March 7, 1961, was by all appearances an ordinary day. My brothers and I were sledding under the yard light just after dusk on the small hill between the house and the barn. Mom and our little sister were in the kitchen fixing supper. We could tell something was wrong the moment Dad got out of the car. His shoulders sagged and there was no light in his eyes. "Daddy's gone," was all he said, referring to his father, his voice breaking and his eyes filling with tears, as he passed us on the way to the house. Two words, and my whole world collapsed.