I remember early one Sunday morning about 5 AM my wife and I heard our daughter Stacey in her bedroom crying.
We rushed to her room where she was sitting up in her bed with a book of Bible stories that her grandmother had given her as a gift.
When she saw us, she began to tell us why she was crying.
She raised up the book and pointed to a picture of Jesus hanging on the cross between two thieves.
With her little index finger on the middle cross where Jesus was hanging on His cross, she looked at us through her tears and said, "Jesus died for me on that cross." That morning we led her in prayer to accept Jesus as her Lord.
That was in 1975 and she was five years old.
She still loves the man that was on that cross and is now raising her three children in the ways of God.
