Depression Corn

Grandma planted Indian corn carefully in the sod. She had no more money, but she did believe in God. Grandma watered what she'd sown. She said a silent prayer. A few months later healthy corn grew in the clearing there. It fascinated me that from so small a seed such good could come from American soil to fulfill our family need. Grandma never lacked for food. The Bread of Life was here. She rocked and read her Bible and prayed without a fear. If we listened to God like Grandma God could heal our troubled land, and we wouldn't be fighting foreign wars in Iraq or Afghanistan. Let foreign countries change themselves. We cannot do it for them. Why slit our throat for someone else? A wise would ignore them. But the world's resources, men can never ignore. To those coveted countries, we'll open every door. All worldly governments are basically the same: variable, with wars; taxes; and change. Mankind's involved in a global marble game with new circles of influence being lost or gained. Those who have assets, enjoy a good ride. Those who have little, starve to the side. But in the end, doesn't God make the rules? We are His assets. They are His fools. Janet Marie Bingham