Proof The Bible Is True

I first met Vera in 1983, when I moved to my little farm with the somewhat dilapidated farmhouse. Her40 acres adjoined my 25 acres, so she was my neighbor. Already in her upper seventies and a widow of ten years, Vera was one of those memorable women who live out their lives on their beloved homesteads.

“My Dwight passed on ten years ago,” she told me on her first visit, when she came to greet me with a freshly baked peach pie and a welcoming smile. “And my two girls moved on to live their lives in cities,so I guess our farm will be sold to strangers after I’m gone.”

“Oh, that’s sad,” I said.

“Yes, it is that. Our farm has been in the family since the 1800s. It was Dwight’s home place. We lived here since we were married, and raised our family on it, and I’m a-staying here until they carry me away and lay me down to rest next to Dwight in the little cemetery just a half-a-mile from here. Besides, if I moved, I’d miss my mockingbirds, and they’d miss me.”

I smiled at her remark, and as she got up to leave, I thanked her for the pie and the visit.

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