Devotionals

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Compassionate Friend
©
by

Stephen A. Peterson


On the first day of autumn 2004, I came to my home in Shawnee, Oklahoma to find Juanita, my 8 year old daughter and her friend, Sonja, sitting in two of our lawn chairs in the backyard. Both girls were crying shedding a great deal of tears. Concerned they may be seriously injured in some manner, I hurried to the backyard nearly ripping the latch off of the gate door to attend to them.

“Are you two alright? Are you hurt?” I asked.

Still crying, Sonja held up her doll. “My baby’s arm fell off,” Sonja cried.

I picked up the detached plastic arm. After very little effort, the arm was re-attached and the doll made whole once again.

“Thank you,” came through the sobs of Sonja. Next looking into the eyes of my daughter, Juanita, I asked “Why are you crying, Juanita. What happened to you? Are you hurt?” Wiping her face with her, “I was helping Sonja cry daddy,” she responded

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