Hello!
I've been home from the Colorado Christian Writer's Conference for almost a week and still haven't posted any thing about how much the Lord blessed me there. So, because I've feeling bad about being such a slacker, I'm going to post two reruns of some of my favorite stories. Hope you enjoy them. (A note about the picture.) One year, after reading the story posted here, to the ladies of our WOW Bible Study, they surprised with a 'Thank you for teaching gift,' -- A black plastic bag filled with pretty socks- Blessings, Sue

HOLEY, HOLEY, HOLEY

Not too many pounds ago I had three preschoolers. Back then our budget was tight and my jeans were loose. One morning I borrowed a car, loaded up my brood and headed for Gemco. It was the store with everything; house wares, fabric, clothes and, way in the back, the lowest priced groceries in town.

We went in for food, but took a tempting detour through the shoe department. The

cart stopped itself in front of the ladies socks. I really needed socks. I really needed

groceries. I looked down at my neglected feet then up at my three hungry children.

No contest. My feet were definitely outnumbered. The choice seemed totally obvious

and completely unfair. I knew other people with preschoolers who could afford socks

and food. I even considered some of those people to be my friends—usually.

I glanced sideways at the other shoppers. Some had new towels in their carts. Others had name brand shampoo that made your hair smell like an herbal garden. I bet they can afford socks. They probably buy the fancy kind with cute little patterns. All I want is plain, white, cotton.

I reached for the package and examined it. They sure were white. They sure were soft. They sure didn’t have holes in the heels.

“Mommy,” my two-year-old asked, “you hugging socks?”

The baby squirmed in her front snuggle/carrier.

“Mom,” Mr. Four-year-old informed me, “you’re smashing the baby. Didn’t we come to buy food?”

I looked into the eyes of my trusting children and sighed deeply. Reluctantly I hung the package on the hook. Then I squared my shoulders and pointed the cart toward the grocery section. But before I gave it a forward push, I said a quick prayer. I did not kneel. I did not wail. I did not close my eyes. I just lifted a thought to the One who always hears. “God, I need socks.”

The next day I answered an unexpected knock on the front door. I opened it to see, Shirley, a lady from church.

“Hi Sue. Say, my daughter-in-law works at a sporting goods store and has access to some clothes. I thought you might be able to use them.”

“Sure. I love hand-me-downs.”

Shirley placed four large, black, plastic trash bags near my front door. “Most of these are new. Overstocks, discontinued items or returns.”

I hugged her. “Thanks for thinking of me.”

We all waved as she backed out of our driveway, then took the bags inside. My kids gathered around as I loosened the knot on the first bag. “Isn’t it nice when people give us clothes?”

Mr. Four-year-old peered into the bag and announced, “These aren’t clothes. It’s nothing but a great big bag full of socks.”

I gathered them into my arms—the children, not the socks—and hugged them. Isn’t God good!