As Sunday School superintendent many years ago, I had just stepped to the microphone to get the attention of the congregation when my wife, carrying our 2-year-old daughter, Beverly, entered the door at the back of the chapel.
Everything was under control until Beverly spotted me at the pulpit. Suddenly she called out at the top of her voice, at the same time pointing in my direction, "That's my daddy!"Needless to say, I was proudly embarrassed as her words echoed throughout the chapel. My dear wife, Clara, was thoroughly chagrined, to put it mildly, while Beverly's eight brothers and sisters squirmed in their seats. Everyone managed to stifle a laugh.
But I have never been greeted with more love and sincerity and with greater enthusiasm than on that occasion. I can still hear Beverly shouting, "THAT'S MY DADDY!"
