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Poem
July 31, 1995 ISSUE
Stings
Charlotte Egea
Angry words stung like the hornets whose nest was stirredby a broom held all wrong,as a boy swept the porch, his job that day,and I shouted to make my point heard.
The little boy turned from the pain of both stingsto thoughts above from God,where no evil is real—no stinging, no anger—and I came to apologize and hug.

July 31, 1995
Contents
July 31, 1995 issue
View Issue-
Horowitz, exams, and miracles
Alexander Wellford, Jr.
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Poor God? No way!
Joan T. Lucht
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How close is God?
Linda Jo Beckers
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Not guilty!
A. Belle Anderson
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Fatherhood: "being there," staying connected, learning grace
with contributions from Channing Walker, Monty Hoyt, Glenn Felch
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Stings
Charlotte Egea
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God's promises are kept
Marguerite Elizabeth Streib
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Seeing and hearing
Barbara M. Vining
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Unlimited freedom—now!
Michael A. Seek
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A couple of years ago my husband and I stopped in a small...
Doris F. Cicero
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One evening I was suffering with an earache
Teri DeWitt Carnesciali
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One afternoon two local businesswomen visited me
Leonelda K. Lundquist