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Show Nettie, Page 15 prayed any harder, but he died. He died and I know I wasn't the only one praying." "That's true, Nettie. Your mama and I and all our family did a heap of praying over Frank. But there's lots of ways to answer prayers." "But if you don't get the answer you want, what good is it, Papa? I wanted Frank to live. I loved him, Papa." Nettie's troubled heart struggled with its first real burden. "Do you trust me? Do you love me and trust me enough to do whatever I say?" Papa spoke so softly, Nettie drew closer to hear him. "Of course I do." Then, defiantly, "But don't tell me to pray, because I can't." "Patience, child. Just listen a minute." Papa guided the wagon over to the side of the road, and in his slow, deliberate way he fastened the reins loosely, set the brake, and turned back to Nettie. "Suppose I told you to jump down from this wagon and run home. Would you do that?" "Yes, Papa." "Suppose I told you to take Alice and walk to town," he asked. "Yes, Papa, but why ..." "Just a minute. Suppose I told you to take your favorite dress and tear it up into bits." Nettie hesitated just a moment. "If you told me to do it, Papa, I'd guess you had a good reason." "Well, Nettie, it's just the same when we talk about Frank dying. Father in heaven heard our prayers. He knows we loved Frank and wanted |