As his mother tucked him...
Illustration
As his mother tucked him into bed one night, the boy snuggled beneath the covers said, "Mom, would you say my prayers for me tonight?"
"Why can't you say your own prayers?" asked his mother.
"I don't think God and me are on such good terms just now."
"Why don't you think you are?"
"Cause me and Billy Simpson put some mud in Mrs. Allen's mailbox."
"Don't you think God can forgive you if you're sorry?"
"Probably. But if he's half as mad as Mrs. Allen will be when she goes to get her mail tomorrow, I don't think he'll feel much like forgiving me."
"So you think 1 should say your prayers for you?" she queried with a dubious look.
"Well, I was sorta' hoping you would just put in a good word for me."
Sometimes it can help to have an advocate.
"Why can't you say your own prayers?" asked his mother.
"I don't think God and me are on such good terms just now."
"Why don't you think you are?"
"Cause me and Billy Simpson put some mud in Mrs. Allen's mailbox."
"Don't you think God can forgive you if you're sorry?"
"Probably. But if he's half as mad as Mrs. Allen will be when she goes to get her mail tomorrow, I don't think he'll feel much like forgiving me."
"So you think 1 should say your prayers for you?" she queried with a dubious look.
"Well, I was sorta' hoping you would just put in a good word for me."
Sometimes it can help to have an advocate.
