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I climbed back up on the monkey bars
I was in Dallas last summer visiting my best friend, Anna. It was her little brother's birthday. I fell off the monkey bars and landed on my arm. I couldn't move it, and it looked funny.
Mommy picked me up, and we sat down and prayed together. She talked to me about a story called "The House with the Colored Windows." In the story, a white horse looked blue through a blue window, and red through a red window. But the horse was never anything but white. Mommy told me that that's how I was—that all of me, including my arm, was perfect, even if it looked broken or out of joint at the moment.
When we got up, my arm wasn't bent funny anymore. But I still couldn't move it.
Enjoy 1 free Sentinel article or audio program each month, including content from 1898 to today.
March 29, 2004 issue
View Issue-
Hey, Kids...
Maike Byrd
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Writing—a secret place to listen to God
By Lyn Hoopes
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What would YOU do?
with contributions from Aina Eichler
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A special surprise
Carol Cummings
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Help when you need it
By Channing Walker
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Loving people forever
By Lois Rae Carlson
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Pet stories
Levi Bobsin, Nescillah Awino Omondi, Katie Ogrinz, Samantha Wines
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Our 23rd Psalm
with contributions from Estela von Cardinal, Caitlin Sweeney, Maggie Sweeney, Sarah Sweeney, Colin Haase, Kathryn Torrence, Amy Bringhurst
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Scared of wasps? Not me
Zack Stevens
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My two big healings
Lenay Muller
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I climbed back up on the monkey bars
Angela Lupher
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The nurse's office
Amy Baldauf
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While I was snorkeling
Russell Wallace
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I could move my thumb again
Name removed by request
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A letter from Australia
By Helen Braybrook
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Grass Roots
by Cindy Procious
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Paul's great escape
By Clare Turner
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Things you've shared
with contributions from Jenna Marston, Laci Harmon, April Peacock, Evan Geiger, Aquene Reed, Henry Hoagland