TWELVE- CENT-SAMARITAN
When we remember who we are and to whom we belong, it makes a difference. A number of years ago, I was standing in line at the grocery store. I had the honey-do list in one hand and the bread, milk, and other stuff in the basket. In front of me at the check out counter was a young man eight or nine years old. He was looking over that display of candy bars that are always there to tempt everyone who’s on a diet. I could tell this was an important and momentous decision. Choosing just the right candy bar is never easy. I remember thinking, “Good choice!” when he picked a big old Baby Ruth and laid it on the counter. The cashier rang it up and told how much it was. The boy reached in his pocket and pulled out a bunch of pennies, nickels and a single dime and plopped them on the counter. The cashier gave him…
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