(The little girl in the picture isn’t me)
Laughter fills the air as the birds, squirrels, and maybe even a bear or two sleep. “Shhhh,” Mrs. B. puts her finger to her mouth and looks around at us conspiratorially.
Yes! It’s story time.
Sitting near the fire with a marshmallow jutting off the end of a long stick I can’t wait for it to brown just right so I can stick the oh so sweet gooey gob in my mouth.
A hush falls around the campfire with only the crackling of the fire as the flames lick the log in the middle of the circle of big rocks. All of us girls quietly eat our marshmallows.
In a hushed tone Mrs. B. begins to tell us how Jesus probably sat at a fire just like this one and talked to his disciples. Then she goes into a story that leaves…
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