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Angie leaped off the school bus. She ran down the lane to her front door, raced upstairs to her room, dropped her school books, and grabbed a warm jacket. She was out of the house in less than five minutes.
She kicked a stone in front of her and briskly walked down the country road to the farm where Babe was stabled. The air felt cold, and Angie wished she had brought some heavier gloves. She stuck her hands in her pockets—there wasn't time to go back home. These winter afternoons were so short as it was, and she wanted to use every moment of remaining daylight to ride Babe.
The barn door was open, and Angie went right to Babe's stall. She slid the bolt back to open the stall door. When she reached up to pat Babe, her hand felt something prickly. Angie climbed up on the swinging half-door for a closer look. Babe's mane was full of burrs.
Enjoy 1 free Sentinel article or audio program each month, including content from 1898 to today.
What Do You Expect?
EVELYN M. S. DUCKETT
God Not Only Is but Does
Don't Argue with Error, Dismiss It!
ARTHUR THORNTON MOREY
God's Will Is Good
MABEL M. SCHULZ
IN YOUR HANDS
Helen G. Hasler
Alice Taylor Reed
Sarah Ann Klessig
Each One-His Beautiful Child
Climbing the Mountain
Neil E. Goldie-Scot
How to Win with Basic Truth
Geoffrey J. Barratt
Lessons from the Scapegoat
Wilbur S. Jenkins
We have had many beautiful healings in our family as a result...
Martha L. Niemi
When my wife passed on last year, after we had had forty-seven...
William E. Harvey
In her book Retrospection and Introspection Mrs. Eddy writes...
Etta May Green with contributions from Jill Weisner, Beverly V. Weisner