My son, John, a kindergartener, practices spelling with magnetic letters on the refrigerator: "cat," "dog," "dad," and "mom" have been proudly displayed for all to see.
One morning while getting ready for the day, John bounded into the room with his arms outstretched.
In his hands were three magnetic letters: G-O-D. "Look what I spelled,
Mom!" John exclaimed, a proud smile on his face. "That's wonderful!"
I said. "Now go put them on the fridge so Dad can see when he gets home tonight."
That Christian education is certainly having an impact, I thought, happily. Just then, a little voice called from the kitchen. "Mom? How do you spell 'zilla?'"
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