The Lazarus Lesson
If my memory is accurate, I was a young child when a stranger wandered into our farm yard one evening, on foot. This didn’t happen. Our farm was a long way from the nearest city, the nearest highway, the nearest railroad. A man in a long, dark trench coat was a strange sight on a farm set back from the gravel road by a fairly long driveway. I pretty much just stared at the visitor and tried to imagine who he might be and what he may want. Only a few sketchy memories remain in my mind about the words Read More