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I wanted to please my brother, but I knew I had to mind <strong>Go</strong>d and fast that night. I felt <strong><strong>Go</strong>d's</strong><br />
presence very close to me as we drove to town.<br />
He had a certain eating place where he wanted to get a spaghetti dinner. Seated at a table, he<br />
ordered the spaghetti dinner for himself and asked what I wanted.<br />
Again I told him, "I'm not eating." This wasn't easy.<br />
Finally, he ordered a fried chicken dinner for me. I insisted that he not order it, but he said, "You<br />
have to eat." While we waited for the orders, he said, "We have to have a glass of wine."<br />
Again, I said, "Not for me. I am not drinking and definitely not wine."<br />
<strong>The</strong> waitress finally brought the two dinners: the spaghetti was placed before my brother; the fried<br />
chicken dinner for me. I was hungry and the aroma was tantalizing, but I did not give in to my<br />
appetite or to my brother who was trying to be nice to me. I had to mind <strong>Go</strong>d, regardless of a relative.<br />
(So do you.)<br />
He had devoured his order and then said, "I'll eat yours also." And that he did.<br />
Humanly, I felt terrible about it, but was happy I hadn't yielded to temptation. He had come up<br />
from his home in another city in the state to see me after hearing about Fred's being gone.<br />
As he expressed his feelings, he said, "This is terrible for Fred to be away from home. Couldn't<br />
you be a Christian and go to the theater and other places he would want to go, once in a while?"<br />
"I could not go to the theater and keep what I have in my heart," was my answer.<br />
That evening he told me that he had sold the tavern business.<br />
In total agreement I said, "I'm glad you did." <strong>The</strong>n knowing he had made plenty of money in the<br />
business, I asked, "Why?"<br />
He thrilled me with the answer, "My conscience was bothering me. I had to get rid of it."<br />
He has been in the antique and museum business for a number of years at Long Beach,<br />
Washington. He, Wellington and his wife, Harriet, have been kind to me.<br />
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