Hiding Place
Father sat down on the edge of the narrow bed. “Corrie,” he began gently, “when you and I go to Amsterdam – when do I give you your ticket?”
I sniffed a few times considering this.
“Why just before we get on the train.”
“Exactly. And our wise Father in heaven knows exactly when we are going to need things too. Don’t run out ahead of him Corrie.

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