“Let’s take turns riding down the hill!” my cousin Lanie suggested. 

I was visiting my cousins for the summer, and Lanie had a new shiny blue bike. She lived at the top of a very steep hill, and she said we could go really fast. I went first. But as I rode down the hill, I lost control of the bike and fell. 

My dad was watching from the top of the hill and ran over to me. Lanie's bike was OK, but I wasn't. It was hard for me to get up, so my dad picked me up and carried me into the house. As my parents tucked me into bed, they reminded me that God loves me. I knew they were praying for me, because that’s what our family has always done whenever there’s been a problem. I didn’t feel scared about the fall because I knew my parents were taking care of me.