The King’s Home

I lowered the tray of colorful Christmas cookies and suggested, “Pick one out for your Daddy, too.”

Two little boys with big brown eyes reached up and picked out their favorites.

“I want the castle,” said the oldest as he clutched the church-shaped cookie.

“Well,” I chuckled. “that’s a church, but you could call it a home for a King.”

The youngest wanted to eat his green tree cookie AND Daddy’s star, too, . . . right then.

I had a few more brief visits with them and with their mother, Cathy, for several months, and then one afternoon last April, Cathy asked the King to make her heart His home.

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