Proof The Bible Is True

Dad was a rural mail carrier for 52 years, but he loved it too much to call it his job. His “office” was the natural world, and he never tired of admiring the flowers, trees and sky along his route. “God’s handiwork,” he’d say. Outdoors he could also scout the best places for mushrooms.

Morel mushroom hunting was a family tradition. I remember Mom and Dad taking us kids to a special spot in the woods one May day when I was seven. “First one to find a morel wins the prize,” Dad said. He winked at me, the youngest, for luck.

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