ADVENTIST LIFE
Last year my 4-year-old grandson Sawyer was becoming aware of what Vacation Bible School (VBS) was all about for the very first time. His papa was painting the mural for the backdrop, his mother was readying supplies for the craft division, and Nana was talking about helping with registration. He knew it was going to be a special time to learn about Jesus and have fun with his friends. VBS would start the very next week. While he was doing tricks on the swinging bar of his backyard play set and chattering away, I commented that I liked his new tricks and that I was very proud of my smart boy. He climbed down, walked right over to me, and said: “And Nana, I haven’t even been to Vacation Bible School yet!”
—Annie Ross, Lodi, California

My granddaughter was asked by her boyfriend, who had been raised a Catholic, where my husband was.
She told him that I had never married, had taught school, and had gotten custody of her mother when at the Indian mission school in Arizona, and then raised her as well. She said I had given my life to Adventist education.

Then she said to him: “You know, kind of like an Adventist nun, but she wears regular clothes!”
—Doreen Vaughn, Mount Vernon, Ohio

POEM
My Hiding Place
Clouds:?Photodisc; Woman:?www.gettyimages.com/
Thinkstock. Digitally combined

It’s dark.
I run.
The panic is rising.
It’s getting darker.
I’m being pursued.
Fear tightens my throat.
I can hardly breathe.
The darkness deepens.
I stumble.
The footsteps behind me are closer, faster.
The darkness clutches at me like giant fingers.
I look for a wall to hide behind.

Stop! The word seems to pierce my panic-
    stricken brain.
Look up! Darkness?
He is the light.
He dispels darkness.
Fear?
His love casts out my fear.
Hard to breathe?
He is the breath of life.
Stumbling?
He will hold me with His right hand.
My enemy?
He will lift up a standard against him.
A wall to hide behind?
My hiding place is not behind walls.
It’s under wings—under His wings!

—Margaret Ringering, Gresham, Oregon; submitted with her permission by Ione Markel Richardson