Mrs. Wewell 11 x 365

When Mrs. Wewell, our next-door neighbor, said I should pray for her instead of the soldiers in Vietnam, I complied. The next day she caught her arm in the wringer of her old wringer-washer. When I tried it again, a car ran over her dog. I quit praying after that.

Comments

Indigo Bunting said…
I hope I'm not sent to hell for saying I love this story!
9/25/06, 2:24 PM
Cedar Waxwing said…
Heh. Well, I guess I'll be there too.
9/25/06, 4:24 PM
Bridgett said…
Oh my goodness, do not pray for me.
9/25/06, 10:01 PM
Otter said…
How are you praying exactly?
9/26/06, 4:59 PM
Cedar Waxwing said…
Gosh, I don't remember how I prayed for Mrs Wewell. I was about 8 at the time. Probably started out with "now I lay me down to sleep..." and ended with blessings for various people. I seriously did give it up after that though, I was afraid to harm more people.
9/26/06, 5:11 PM
ell said…
Perhaps the question should be WHO were you praying to?

Maybe the prayers got diverted to the wrong place.

:-D
10/3/06, 12:31 PM
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