To You … With Love,

When David and I were young we lived on his father's rainbow trout farm. Located down on the edge of the Ozarks where the waters run clear and cold, we fed the fishes, cooked the fish food, picked the bad ova from the egg beds of those yet unborn and assisted travelers who came forth to fish.

One morning an elegant automobile pulled into the yard and out of it came a man, carefully put together, a woman in garments one only dreams about and a little girl child whose laughter seemed to sweeten the air around her. They decided to fish in the area that contained the largest fish.

When they came to pay for their purchases the man handed me a $100 bill. It was the first time such a treasure had ever before passed through my fingers and only those who once stood in depression lines can know what it meant to me and why it is not forgotten.

As I think of this little incident which took place in the midst of my time travels, I am also reminded to recall the strange joy one feels when they find themselves holding in their hearts the beginnings of the knowledge of Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior of their souls.

It is a happiness that weaves itself around us ten-fold. It lies there waiting for us in the season of Lent. You will find it on the hillside, near an old rugged cross.