Unanswered Prayer

Unanswered Prayer

When i was a boy Mother insisted I attend Church each Sunday, though she never once stepped through the door. 

I occupied a pew beside my sisters, and thought about baseball, rocks, golf, fishing, and just about anything else but our Lord and Savior. 

One fine morn there was a special feature—a woman came from afar to play glorious music on her harp for all to hear. 

Wait a minute, I thought. Harp is a light Irish beer, and I'd much rather have a cold glass 
of it right now than her and that danged harp.

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