LITTLE BLACK BIKE PANTS

WHEN OUR DAUGHTER, Katie, was a little girl, people would often exclaim over her, "Oh, you have a beautiful little china doll!" And I would think to myself, "Underneath, she's Rambo!"

She was such a dear, and so happy—as long as she got exactly what she wanted. Otherwise, she could make my life miserable, and I'd feel as though we were often locked in a classic mother-daughter power struggle.

I prayed about this, turning to Mary Baker Eddy's poem, " 'Feed My Sheep' " for guidance (Poems, p. 14). And I began to learn so much more about how God does feed each of us—in just the way we need.

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