*** A GERMAN GRANDMOTHER Frieda Brand drove carefully along the rutted farm road leading up to her parents' farm.She soaked in the view. It had been a while since she'd visited.The cherry trees were in bloom and they formed a fairy tale avenue of candyfloss.Even Willem and Karl, Frieda's little boys were quiet as they gazed out of the windows.The bowl of mountains welcomed them to the fruitful Ceres farm. "Welkom, welkom," Frieda's mother Ida greeted them from the spacious and cool veranda. She still spoke with a German accent after all these years. The little ones were out of the car in a flash. Frieda retrieved their bags and followed. The boys had disappeared already, but she knew where they'd be. Sure enough, Willem and Karl were seated at the generous kitchen table, a cookie in each hand. "So, you have come at a good time," Ida announced as she bustled around, putting the kettle on and arranging more goodies on a plate. "This time of ...
All for Jesus! "So encourage each other and build each other up, just as you are already doing." 1 Thess. 5:11.