Roger went to the grocery store early Thanksgiving morning to pick up this and that for a busy cook. He met another American friend who was also on a Thanksgiving mission his wife had sent him on. They were to come to our house for lunch bringing dressing and believe it or not pecan and pumpkin pies. They laughed and both looked high and low for chicken bouillon. After several rounds the two men found it low and underneath stuff.

While we lingered over coffee and dessert a fight broke out among our kids down the hall. Isaac and Hudson argued loudly. Roger went to break it up while I kept Suzy from serving a third piece of pumpkin pie. (Really!) The argument calmed, but they ended up right at the table for the finishing punch. Isaac told Hudson he was sorry. Hudson already deep in pie said very clearly, "I forgive you." and kept on eating. I breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn't going to involve anything more.

Yvette said, "Wow! I don't think I have ever seen anything like that. That was amazing." Roger and I refrained from the temptation of a long discourse on forgiveness and let the miracle shine. It really is a miracle that we can forgive and be forgiven.

I get tired of trying to figure out if the person asking for "just a little thing" at the door is really needy or perhaps I'll find those drugged eyes looking at me through the slats of the picket fence. We usually give something no matter what, but I am careful not to take the best from my family to give to someone who might be taking advantage of us. When the bell rang yesterday I could tell that she was asking for something. I walked to the door and saw an old wrinkled eye looking at me with trembling lips asking for a little bit of rice please. As I walked in to get a bag of rice, I thought ugly thoughts that this woman was really good at the begging game. I had accidentally bought extra rice this week, so I could give her a whole bag instead of just a cup or two. Something made me open the door to pass the rice to her instead of handing it over the fence. She placed the bag of rice in a grocery bag that already contained several things and thanked me saying that this is the first time she has been without work and the first time she has had to beg in all her life. The tears poured out. I believed her. I listened and then put my arm around her to pray with her. Maybe she was good at the game, maybe not. Perhaps there was more to it than just a little rice.

Know of our prayers for you all tonight,

Laura Dye for Roger and the kids, CHILE