| Our parents called them "the Bible Club
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| | "Why is he crying?""Because he's lost,"
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| girls," even though Hazel Simonton and
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| | said the little girl solemnly. "He
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| Jean Clark had strands of grey sprinkled
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| | doesn't know where he lives.""Do you know
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| through their dark hair by the late
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| | where he lives?""Nope.""Does anybody in
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| 1940s. That's how people referred to
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| | here know where he lives?""Nope." (The
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| women, especially single women, back
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| | little boy began to sob deeply and
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| then.Every Wednesday after school, the
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| | hopelessly.)"Don't cry, sweetie. We'll
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| Bible Club girls came to our church in
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| | find your home."Not the highlight of the
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| the Bitterroot Valley of Montana. The
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| | little boy's week or theirs, but
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| pastor had built a fire in the cast-iron
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| | eventually, after hours of travel, the
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| furnace in the back corner of the church,
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| | little lost boy was home again.Why did
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| but the building was still bitter cold
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| | they do it?Not for money. They came West
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| when we arrived at three-thirty. We
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| | from New Jersey with just $40 per month
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| perched on the first two rows of cold
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| | pledged to them. But their idea was never
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| wooden pews, little kids with rubber
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| | to get, but to give. The things they did,
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| boots, winter coats leaking dirty
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| | they did for love: the love of God which
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| mittens, stocking caps, and, frequently,
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| | is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Which love
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| cold sores and runny noses, which noses,
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| | they poured out on all of us, year after
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| if they were wiped at all, were wiped on
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| | year.They died in the 1990s in Montana,
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| the dirty mittens.Miss Simonton and Miss
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| | which had become their true home. Shirley
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| Clark knew all our names. And remembered
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| | Rasmussen Downing describes Hazel
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| them forever. We could meet them in a
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| | Simonton's death:"Cathy called me in
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| store in Missoula ten, fifteen years
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| | Arizona and told me that Miss Simonton
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| later to be greeted by name and flooded
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| | had just passed away . . . on the
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| with love.Because they loved us. Truly
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| | hospital heart floor. At 4:00 A.M. she
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| did. And we warmed to that love the way
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| | spent ONE HOUR talking with Miss
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| little plants do to sunshine.After the
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| | Simonton, as Miss Simonton wanted to tell
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| class session was over, Miss Simonton and
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| | her about me -- the Daily Vacation Bible
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| Miss Clark asked, "Who needs a ride
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| | School years and helping at camp, all the
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| home?"A forest of hands went up. Mine
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| | many, many verses I had learned at Bible
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| usually didn't, because Mamma usually sat
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| | School, and the Bible drills I had
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| in the back of the church, ready to take
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| | won."Then, after her long visit with
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| all children from around Willow Creek.
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| | Cathy, Cathy left for a bit, returned to
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| But sometimes she couldn't come, and I
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| | check on her, and she had died."How like
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| was one of the children who piled into
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| | her to die thinking of one of her
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| the Bible Club girls' little car. I sat
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| | children -- for we were all her girls and
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| up front, as I got carsick, and six or
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| | boys.Her family back East sent a nephew
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| seven children crowded into the back,
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| | to represent them at the funeral. He
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| poking and pinching each other. "Who's
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| | arrived at the church early and was
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| closest?" Miss Simonton would ask."Me," a
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| | seated in a front pew in the almost empty
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| hand went up. And we were led through
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| | auditorium. He had said he couldn't give
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| mile after mile of icy dirt road with
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| | a speech, but the pastor didn't know that
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| ruts frozen into place, past cold,
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| | and called on him. He bravely went to the
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| forlorn farmhouses and barns and bare
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| | front of the auditorium and turned
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| trees and chilly looking cows and horses
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| | around. And gaped to find the church now
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| with long winter coats, while the
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| | packed, the balcony filled, and people
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| snow-covered Rocky Mountain peaks looked
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| | standing at the rear.All the little boys
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| down at us in the deepening gloom."Turn
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| | and girls Hazel Simonton and Jean Clark
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| here," a little voice would command from
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| | had loved all those years had grown up
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| the back seat, as the car jolted and
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| | and had children and grandchildren, and
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| jumped and skidded over the roads. "And
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| | hundreds of them were there that day to
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| here."Gradually the crowd in back
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| | show their love and respect.Because Hazel
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| dwindled. Until there were just a little
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| | Simonton and Jean Clark loved us. And we
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| girl and a little boy. A freckle-faced
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| | loved them right back.
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| boy with tears streaming down his face.
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|