Out of the Mouths of Babes

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Sheri was two grades behind me in school, but her older brother was in my class. We grew up together in school and church. Fast forward to today, and she is married to the children's pastor at my dad's current church. She and het husband Scott are really good people, with huge hearts, and have not just 5 biological children, but 4 adopted children (not surprisingly, they are very frugal). Back on May. 20, 2013 Sheri and Scott only had 4 total children. They live in the city next to mine, which means they also live in Tornado Alley. I remember that day very well because I had to seek shelter at a gas station with my dog, Annabelle. But back to Sheri and Scott. It was in the afternoon, and the tornado sirens had gone off. Everything was black, and it was difficult to distinguish from looking outside, exactly what was what. Sheri was at work (she is a sign language interpreter), so Scott gathered his 4 little ones, pulled a kid's mattress (the only one that would fit) into the closet in the center of the home, and began to pray. As the roar of the tornado got closer, Scott made his voice louder and louder. It seemed like forever, but after about four minutes the E-5 (largest kind) tornado moved past, and Scott's prayer became slower and slower. Carefully, he opened the closet door, and looked around to see the neighborhood obliterated, with only the closet he and his children had been hiding in, still standing. He looked down as he felt his 4 year old daughter tugging on his pants. "Daddy," she said, "You forgot to say Amen!"