Many years ago, when we had dug our potatoes, we laid the potatoes on the ground and washed them.
We let them dry in the sun, and then my two little sons started putting the potatoes in bags for storage.
We counted the potatoes to nine, then Joshua was to pick the biggest potato he saw and place it into a
separate bag. The biggest potatoes went into a separate bag. This tenth potato belonged to God.
We finished, and had carried all the bags down into the basement, we carried the separate bags and loaded
them into our station wagon.
We drove across the river to a small Presbyterian church. We could see the Pastor was in the office in study.
We unloaded the bags of potatoes near his study door, we pulled down the street out of sight, and my oldest son,
knocked on the door and ran to us down
...