Cold Sassy Tree

by Olive Ann Burns

“When Jesus said ast and ye shall receive, I don’t think He meant us to pray ‘Lord, spare my child,’ or ‘Make it rain for the crops,’ or ‘Don’t let my bizness fail.’ I don’t even think Jesus meant us to ast for—” “—for a house or a piano?” She put her hand on his open palm. He laughed, and lifted her hand and kissed it. “Naw, and not even for a husband or any other sech favor. The Lord’s Prayer does say, ‘Give us this day our daily bread,’ but thet’s the only dang thang Jesus ast for in the whole prayer thet you can tetch. They ain’t nothin’ in the Lord’s Prayer says ‘Make me well.’ I’m tempted to pray thet right now, hurtin’ like I am. But I don’t think Jesus meant us to think we can git healed jest by beggin’ for it.” Grandpa laughed kind of rueful. “God made us so we want to stay alive. He put healin’ power in our bodies. We don’t have to beg Him to save us. All we got to do is accept bein’ sick, do what Doc says, and trust thet God wants us to git well if’n we can.” Miss Love broke in. “In the Bible, Jesus only healed the people who asked Him to—and believed He could. If Jesus could heal, can’t God? If we pray and have faith?” “Well’m, faith ain’t no magic wand or money-back gar’ntee, either one. Hit’s jest a way a-livin’. Hit means you don’t worry th’ew the days. Hit means you go’n be holdin’ on to God in good or bad times, and you accept whatever happens. Hit means you respect life like it is—like God made it—even when it ain’t what you’d order from the wholesale hou...