God gave children to young folk, and today, I am remembering why.  I raised four of them and don’t know how I did it.  I’m eighty-three now, and Tate--who stayed all night with me--is six.  I’ve played nine or ten games of flip the coin, battleship, and read books in between.

His energy is unlimited.  Mine sags.  But it has been so much fun.  His vocabulary is huge.  He talks without taking a breath because he has so much to say.  And surprisingly, it is all interesting.  Last night I put him to bed and opened the Bible to read him the Lord’s prayer.

I said, “This book is full of the words God wanted us to know.”  Tate said, “He sure had a lot of words to say.”

Jon and Jennifer came over yesterday and hung two picture rails.  They will allow me to change pictures from time to time without nailing them to the wall.  They will sit on the ledge.  They will hang the last rail up when they come back this afternoon to get Tate.  I really like them.  I will be moving pictures around on the ledges all week long I am sure.

Two more days left in 2021.  These last two years have been a blur.  They have gone extremely fast----and extremely slow.