My Hand

“For how shall I go up to my father, and the lad be not with me? lest peradventure I see the evil that shall come on my father.” Genesis 44:34 KJV
After all the ceremonies, his body guard took him to Union Station in Washington DC where he would board a train to head home. The ex-President was now, literally, just an average American. If I stayed there any longer, I knew I would feel the pain of their hand slipping out of mine. “Take me! Take me! I just can’t bear my father’s pain over the loss of another son. It will kill him and it will be my fault because I didn’t take extra good care of his youngest son,” he would beg.

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George Washington crossing the Delaware postcard

“Waters flowed over mine head; then I said, I am cut off.” Lamentations 3:54 KJV
They couldn’t wait to do battle and finish off those pesky revolutionaries. But all that could wait. It was Christmas Eve and it was time to party. And party they did. I threw the tools out of my plastic bucket and put that bucket under the pipe to catch what water I could. The people grew tired of his holier-than-thou attitude. So they threw him in a well that had dried up.

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