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Page 5 · column 2 of 6 · from the scan, no model involved
I introduced Tim to my wife, and we talked about marriage and family. Tim told us his wife had left him and that she had custody of their children. He said he lived alone, but kept busy—said he was a baker for a large grocery-store chain. “I must start making those donuts at 5 a.m. sharp, seven days a week,” he said, smiling. “But I have tomorrow off because of our class reunion.”
The next morning—Sunday morning—we got up and went to church with my sister—something we look forward to doing when we are home. I couldn’t believe who I saw when I walked in the sanctuary. There, in a front row, sat Tim Fox, a member of my sister’s church. I kept glancing at him during the service— he sat quietly, attentively listening to the preacher’s message. After the
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