At home when we all had to stop what we were doing to have a special Day of Prayer and Mom made up a Prayer Chart—our direct phone line to God, she said—and put all the times of the day down in a column of boxes in half-hour slots from 6 A.M. to 6 P.M., Dad would only put his name down for a half an hour of prayer. Mom would put a red line through six boxes and take three whole hours from 6 A.M. till 9 A.M. and another two boxes at the end of the day. She said it was just so wonderful to talk to the Lord she needed all that time to just begin. Rachael always took at least six boxes of prayer and Janet once took six like Mom, but next time was back down to two boxes of prayer. I took one box like Dad, which was plenty for me, because to tell the truth, after about half a box, I’d start thinking about something else. And once my mind wandered so badly from The Things of the Lord that I found myself thinking about whether my Little Thing was ever going to get as big as my dad’s, and then I started to think about the time Andy Keegan stuck his in a Coke bottle and it went hard and he couldn’t pull it out again and he had to show his mom what had happened! She had called my mom up and said that I had played a dirty game and that I could not play with Andy unless I promised not to get him into trouble anymore. Which wasn’t very nice of her since I didn’t get Andy to stick his Little Thing in the bottle in the first place. If he had listened to me and just let me smash the bottle by hitting it with a rock, his mom would never have known. His mom, who was also a missionary, had been sent out by the mission board to help my parents in the vineyard of the Lord to bring in the sheaves of wheat from the field and to catch men for Jesus like in the hymn, “I will make you fishers of men, fishers of men, fishers of men—I will make you fishers of men if you f-o-l-l-o-w me.” She would not believe me, and said I was a truly bad boy, and had a perverse unregenerate mind.