once there was a little stone house in a little city on a big prairie. in that house lived a family. the mother and daughter of the family loved to make nice things to eat. the rest of the family liked to eat nice things, you see. one very nice thing they enjoyed was homemade strawberry jam.
every summer the mother and the daughter would go strawberry picking at a nice little berry farm up the road. even when the daughter was gone, the mother would pick berries. always they would make lots of jars of delicious jam. one time the father even helped!
then one summer came when so many things happened that the garden hardly got planted in time... but it did get planted. eyes searched the prairie landscape for a glimpse of the berry farm sign upon every trip up and down the road. finally, it appeared. it was the friday before the fourth of july. it was morning time and the family was off to see the relatives. plans were made to pick berries very soon.
that afternoon, a tremendous storm swept across the prairie, and pulled up trees by the roots, and broke down groves, and tore roofs and doors off barns, and collapsed huge tin bins, and brought down power lines and light poles, and blew away signs. and it brought hail.
the days went by, the hundreds of trees were gradually sawed up and hauled away. and no time for berry picking. finally the mother called the berry farm, to find that every last strawberry had been destroyed by the hail. only a few precious raspberries remained.
so they didn't know what to do. they needed jam for the winter, but there was no other nearby place. so they prayed.
and God took care of them.
later that week, they found strawberries on sale for a fraction of the normal price. they spent $9. they made 33 jars of jam.
and they all enjoyed strawberry jam quite happily and thankfully.
because God took care of them.
it was just one more story to add to their collection of how faithful their God truly was; it helped them to trust Him even more.
the end.
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