Proof The Bible Is True

Aunt Jean led my sister Audrey and me through the quiet, rural New Jersey town, pointing out the places from our mother’s childhood, telling stories. We reached the place where her family’s dairy farm once stood, where Mom and her six sisters had grown up. “We’d take turns milking the cows in the morning before school,” Aunt Jean said. “Shared the chores and everything else, even stevens.”

 

Even-stevens. Mom had taught Audrey and me how important it was to share. But now, a year after her death, we were confronted with how difficult that could be. We debated how to divide the things she’d left behind. Both of us wanted the old milk bottle Mom had saved from the farm, emblazoned with her maiden name—Duble. Its sentimental value was priceless. We couldn’t very well divide it in two.

 

Read More: Mysterious Ways: Heaven Helped Them Divide Family Treasures