On a late summer evening, we received a phone call from our babysitter. Panicked, she blurted out, “Mrs. Pedersen, I’m so sorry to be calling, but I can’t find Billy. I’ve looked everywhere, inside and outside, and I can’t find him.” “We’ll be right home.” Leaving the dinner abruptly, we raced home to find neighbors gathered outside. They had searched their houses, yards and garages—and no Billy. They continued to search while we calmed the sitter and joined the hunt for our beloved son. My husband, Mike, searched the garage and surrounding area while I took a quick sweep of the house. No Billy. My heart sank. Where is he? Praying, I decided to take one more careful sweep of the house, starting with his room. And there, underneath his bed, was Billy, sound asleep. Filled with relief, my heart rejoiced for our son, who had been lost, was now found!
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