'Cindy, how did your school trip to the farm turn out yesterday?' Dad passed the breakfast cereal and reached for the milk.

'It was all about milk, Dad.' Cindy pointed to the milk jug in Dad's hand. 'We got to the farm just in time to watch farmer Brown and his workers milk the cows with a milking machine. That was really neat. Then one of the girls showed us how they separate the cream from the milk, and you know what? She gave each of us a glass of fresh cool milk with some cookies.'

'Sounds good. Was that it?'

'Oh, no. A truck came to the farm and we watched them pump the milk into a big tank on the truck. Then we scrambled into the school bus and followed the truck to the Creamery.  They showed us how they pasteurize the milk, and how they put the milk into paper cartons.'

'Sounds interesting!' Dad replied.

'Then we went to a big grocery store.' Cindy stopped to catch a quick breath. 'We watched the store clerks put the cartons of milk on the shelves for the people to buy.' She raised the carton of milk from the breakfast table and said, 'The manager gave each of us one of these to take home.'

'Great. Now drink some. Helps you grow,' Dad said.

'Can I say the prayer this morning?' Cindy asked.

Dad nodded - and Cindy prayed.

Prayer: Dear loving Lord, thank You for everybody who worked so we can have milk to drink this morning. Amen.

Jake Peters. Winnipeg, Canada.

'Mom! Are we almost there?' Five year-old Jesse yawned as he stretched his little hands to grab his teddy bear.

'Yes. There's the bus depot. We change buses once more. And it's off to Grandma's. You remember the name of her town?'

'Guada - Guala -'

'It's Guadalajara.' Gua-da-la-ja-ra,' Shirley said. 'And don't forget. It's 'ya' not 'ja'.' She smiled as she wiped the sweat from Jesse's forehead. The bus was air-conditioned, but it still felt hot.

When they got to the bus depot, they had a surprise. The bus for Guadalajara left from another depot.

'Why, Mom?' Jesse murmured as his mother helped him into a small taxi. 'You said -'

'I thought we only had to change buses,' Shirley said softly. 'But we have to go to another bus depot. I'm sorry. It'll be alright soon.'

'Adonde? Where you go?' The Mexican driver turned and smiled. <br><br> 'We're on our way to Guadalajara,' Shirley responded. 'I didn't know that it left from the other depot.

'I help you.' The driver pulled into the depot parking lot. 'Oh. There's your bus. It's leaving.' The driver leapt from the taxi and raced ahead of Shirley to stop the bus.

'Mom, is he an angel?' As Shirley paid the bus driver, Jesse's eyes followed the kind man's path back to his taxi.

'Perhaps he is, Jesse. The Bible says God gives his angels charge over us,' Shirley said quietly. Taking Jesse's hand, she guided him to a couple of empty seats.

'But would angels drive a cab?' Jesse wanted to know.

'Maybe,' Shirley replied. 'Maybe some do.'

Prayer: Thank You, Lord, that You put your angels in charge of us to guard us in our ways. Amen.

Frieda Martens. Winnipeg, Canada.

When I was a little girl, right up until I was about eleven or twelve, I thought we should be afraid of God because it says, 'Serve the Lord with fear.'

In church one Sunday, my minister preached a sermon about 'fearing God.' He explained that the word 'fear' actually means great respect or awe.  'Don't be afraid of God as if He was a cruel tyrant,' the minister said. 'But respect God and be in wonder at the fact that He loves you so much and cares about every part of your life.'

Wow! That is a wonder! God loves me!

The minister quoted the angel Gabriel who appeared to the shepherds the night Jesus was born. The very first words Gabriel said were 'Fear not! Don't be afraid!'

Prayer: Dear Lord, I marvel and wonder at Your great love for me. Help me to love You and serve You with great awe. Amen.

Valerie Cox. Winnipeg, Canada.

Jessica didn't know what to say. Inside, she felt like crying. As Mom prayed and thanked God that Aunt Rachel wasn't suffering any more, Jessica thought, 'Why did You let her die, God?  I will miss her so much.'

Mom said 'Amen' and took Jessica's hand. 'I know you're sad, my dear. She's gone from us for a time. God has now welcomed Aunt Rachel home to heaven.' Mom picked up a beautiful candle nestled in a fancy gift box.

'She wanted you to have this - to let you know she loved you and was thinking about you even in her illness. And to remind you to let the light of God shine in your life, just as she let it shine in hers.'

'Thank you, Mom,' Rachel whispered. 'I won't ever light it. I'll keep it -'

'Oh, but I think Aunt Rachel would want you to use it.'

'It'll burn out.'

'Before it does, it will give light to others,' Mom said softly.

'Just like Aunt Rachel did,' Jessica replied. 'You know what, Mom. I think that God is happy because Aunt Rachel is with Him.'

Mother smiled. 'It's precious to God,' she said.

Prayer: Dear Lord, thank You for having a home in heaven for Your people - and that You welcome us there.  Amen.

'Jake! It's washday. I can't do it myself.' Mother sounded firm.

'But Mom. We planned to go swimming. The boys are on their way over.' Jake scowled. 'I promised.

'It's Monday. You should have thought about that before making any other promises.'

Summer on the prairie farm was hot. Too hot to wind the big wooden handle on the outdoor washing machine for fifteen minutes. Too hot to force the wet clothes through the wringer - then start all over again with another load. Too hot for anything - except a nice cool swim in the pond.

'Maybe I'll just sneak away, and call on the boys instead,' Jake thought. Oh, how he wanted to swim. But Jake knew his Mom couldn't do the wash without his help. So he trudged to the washing machine and got started.

When the boys came along the road and saw Jake working, they didn't even come into the yard. As they strolled away, Jake noticed they were munching on some apples.

A few minutes later, as Jim helped Mom hang the wash on the drying line, he heard the wail of a police siren. The town police car appeared, and stopped up the road. The policeman talked to the boys, then bundled them into the car.

'Looks like your friends are in trouble,' Mom said. 'Wonder where they got those apples.'

Jake didn't answer. He knew. And as the breeze blew the cool wet bed sheets on to his face, he was suddenly glad he had obeyed his mother.

Prayer: Dear Heavenly Father. Help me to do what my parents say - for this is right. Amen.</i><br><br>Jake Peters. Winnipeg, Canada.