One Sunday, when our little girl was about four, it was =
her turn to give thanks for dinner.
She began to pray, "Dear Lord, thank you for Mommy =
and Daddy, Grandpa and Grandma, my brothers and all my =
friends.” Then she looked at the table and added, =
“Thank you for the fried chicken and the mashed potatoes and =
gravy, and the salad and the pie. And . . . "
Then there was a long silence. Finally, she looked up at =
her mother and asked, "Mom, if I thank God for the broccoli, won’t =
He know I am lying?"
Dr Bob Griffin =
Knows Me, This I Love!"