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Collecting parables
Finally I pulled into a gas station. It was cold and dark and rainy, and I didn't know where I was.
The gas-station man was kind. "I'm lost!" I announced (feeling rather childish). The man smiled warmly. "No, you're not, honey. I know right where you are."
Shortly I was on my way home. The rain and the dark no longer seemed like adversaries.
Enjoy 1 free Sentinel article or audio program each month, including content from 1898 to today.
August 11, 1986 issue
View Issue-
Finding out what disease isn't
STEPHEN GOTTSCHALK
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I hear a deeper strain
SUSANNAH BREAUX SEAMAN
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"We are the children of God"
AMY K. ANDERSON
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A home that is large enough
HARRIET BEERY FIELDS
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Collecting parables
UDAI B. HOFFBERG
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"Count it all joy"
ELOISE M. HOTZ
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Joy, with gratitude!
JANE R. HARWOOD
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FROM THE COMMITTEE ON PUBLICATION
with contributions from NATHAN TALBOT, NATHAN A. TALBOT
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Millennium now
CAROLYN B. SWAN
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Patience—a passive longing or an active trust?
WILLIAM E. MOODY
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World peace—and you and me
Judith Ann Hardy
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In the spring of 1985, when our third child was...
ELIZABETH PAULL MITCHELL
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During a vacation in California a few years ago, I went to a...
PHILIP A. SMITH