It was a typical Mississippi afternoon in early September. The weather was still very warm. After work, my husband and I decided to take a ride into the country to check on some property we owned.

My daughter, Carol, age seven, and the twins, Don and Christi, age five, were less than enthusiastic.. "Do we have to go?" they protested "It's so-o-o boring."

I sighed, wishing that I had someone who could keep them. The seventy mile round trip from Jackson was hard on them. There was very little, other than woodland to hold their attention once we got there.

"Why don't you bring your bathing suits?," I suggested. "Maybe, if we have time, we can talk Daddy into going by the lake for a little while."

This idea was a bit more appealing. Trying hard to be patient, the children waited while their Daddy took a walk over the place. Finally satisfied that everything was in order, my husband was ready to start back.

"Can we go swimming?, Please Daddy," Christi begged."

"Are you sure you were really good enough for me to drive five miles out of the way?," their dad teased.

They knew from his tone of voice, everything was well. Don began blowing
up the little plastic inner-tube that we had brought. Christi and Carol were busy pealing off the shirts and jeans which they were wearing over their bathing suits. Within fifteen minutes, we were at the lake.

The lake was small, compared with Barnett Reservoir and other recreational areas nearer Jackson. It was man-made and years before it had been the site of an unsuccessful developing venture. Few people came here any more, especially during the week.

As soon as the car stopped, my three children were out and racing each other to the small sandy beach. Several older children were diving from a pier out in the lake. A few smaller children were splashing around on plastic rafts and inner tubes in the shallow, somewhat muddy, water.

I hurried after the children as they tossed their towels on the sand and headed for the water.

"Wait, Carol," I yelled, "Don't forget to take off your watch. It's not waterproof, you know."

"Oh, thanks for reminding me. I did almost forget.", Carol said, unbuckling the small band and laying it carefully on her towel. She was proud of the little Cinderella watch which she had gotten a few months earlier for her birthday. It was her first real timepiece and it made her feel like she was growing up.

For the next hour, the children paddled around in the water,laughing and splashing each other, while their father and I watched. They were having such fun that I was reluctant to remind them that it was almost sundown and we needed to start home. As the sun dropped, the water cooled rapidly and they
didn't give us too much trouble about leaving. They were back in the car, dripping wet and shivering beneath their towels, when Carol remembered her watch.

"Oh, no," Carol lamented. "It must have dropped in the sand when I picked up my towel. I've got to find it." She quickly got out of the car and ran back toward the beach, with the rest of us following behind her.

We searched the sand for about twenty minutes. By now, it was getting dark and the night air was too cool for wet children. I was afraid they were going to be sick. The little snack bar was closing and we hurried to ask if any one had turned in a lost watch. The answer was negative.

"We've got to pray about it." Carol said.

I had already breathed a silent prayer but I knew my daughters request meant that we should all pray together. We had just recently started having family worship. We were trying to impress on the children that God is their Heavenly Father. We wanted them to know that He cares and is willing to listen under all circumstances. Even though it was too late to spend much more time looking, I realized that it was important to honor this earnest request. We all bowed our heads and prayed a short prayer. Even the twins added their one
line request that God would help us find Carol's watch. On the end of my prayer, I added "if this is your will". I really didn't hold out much hope at this point with so little light left. I didn't want Carol to think that God was letting her down so I searched my mind for a way to tell her without bruising her tender faith.

Again, we combed the area where the towels had been laying. "It's now or never", I thought. Again our efforts went unrewarded. It was too dark to see any more and all the people had gone. As we started the car, I found it surprising that Carol didn't act as upset as she had earlier.

"Don't worry about losing your watch, Sweety," I said "We'll get you a new one. It didn't cost a lot."

"No," Carol stated calmly, "I don't want another watch, That's my birthday watch. I want it. Don't worry," she added seeing my pained expression, "God's going to help me get it back."

My heart sank. "Oh, no!," I thought. "How do you explain to a seven year old that God doesn't always say "Yes" to everything that we pray for?" As far as I could see, there just was no chance of getting the watch back, now. We hadn't even thought to leave our address with the people at the snack bar.

All the way home, I searched my mind for the right way to explain this to Carol without damaging that precious child-like trust.

The next morning, I avoided the subject and Carol didn't mention it either. "Maybe she'll forget about it.", I thought hopefully as I dropped her off at school.

We had an arrangement worked out with the twin's day care center. They picked Carol up after school each day and kept her until my husband and I got off from work. That afternoon when we came for the children, the first words out of Carol's mouth were "Oh, by the way, I didn't get my watch back, today, but I going to get it back tomorrow."

I sighed. I should have known this wasn't over. One thing about Carol was that she was persistent and a bit stubborn at times.

"Carol, Honey, please," I pleaded, "You're just going to have to forget about that watch. We're not going to be going back to that lake any time soon. There's not any way to get it back. Can't you understand that?"

"No, Mother", Carol insisted. "You don't understand. We prayed about it and I'm getting it back, tomorrow. I even saw it, today. A little girl next door to the day care had it on her arm."

"Now, wait just a minute." I protested. "It can't possibly be yours. It probably looked just like yours. I'll bet there are hundreds of watches like yours around."

"This one was mine." she stated, confidently. "The teacher said she would talk to the girl's mother tomorrow and she'll give it back."

"Now, what am I supposed to do?" I wondered. "This child is so stubborn. Tomorrow, she is just going to get disappointed."

The next day, I found it hard to concentrate on my work. My mind kept going back to the conversation with Carol and her insistence that today, she would get her watch. That afternoon, when we picked up the children, I couldn't believe my eyes when Carol proudly held up her arm displaying a Cinderella watch. "See, I told you, I was getting it back, today." she said.

I stared at her arm in disbelief. This didn't make sense at all. My child had somehow managed to take some other child's watch. How could she do this? It, certainly, looked like her watch, even to the little bluish stain on the band but it just couldn't be. There was no way.

Questions tumbled from my husband and I as we tried to sort out and unravel what had happened. It was the next day after talking to the teacher that I finally begin to understand.

Carol had told her teacher about the watch when she first got to the center the day after she had lost it. Later, when the children went outside to play, a little girl in the neighborhood came up to the fence wearing a Cinderella watch. Carol spotted the watch and said "That's my watch you are wearing."

"It can't be yours", the child said, "My brother found this watch yesterday at a lake way back in the country, miles from here."

"I know." Carol told her. "That's where I lost it."

Carol had managed to tell her story so convincingly that the child's mother and the teacher were convinced that she was indeed telling the truth. Now, only one day later, the watch was back on her arm and my daughter wasn't the slightest bit surprised. On the other hand, I was having trouble grasping the reality of it. In a city this large, with all the distances involved this
didn't seem possible. I had to accept the fact that it couldn't have happened without Divine intervention.

"Why," I wondered, "would the God of Heaven set up such an elaborate network of circumstances in order to help a child get back a cheap watch? So many people have so much more urgent needs but don't always get the answer they are hoping for when they pray.

I'm not sure I have the answer but I wonder if, in the eyes of God, there is anything more important than nourishing the faith of a little child and encouraging that tender blossoming trust to grow.

Years have passed, since that day but I still feel a sense of awe when I think about what happened. His ways are not our ways. My own faith also took a giant leap forward and it sustains me still after all this time.