Our Father in Heaven, thank you that you are Lord of Lords, King of Kings, you are on

the throne of the universe.

You allowed my Father and those other four men to be killed because of your mysterious

and perfect ways.

And Father, I thank you for my mother who trusted you and obeyed you.

And I thank you for your word, which helps every one of us to live for you when we seriously

and earnestly seek to know the truth and to know you.

So I ask for your Holy Spirit, Lord, to speak through me that the words of my mouth and

the meditations of my heart, the meditations of our hearts, be acceptable to you in Jesus'

name, Amen.

While I had a very happy and easy childhood, even though most of you think living in the

jungle of the Amazon would be absolutely frightening or horrible, and I'm sure there were

times when my mother was horrified at the dirt, or the nakedness, or the lax of interest,

sometimes the lack of interest, the Indians showed, sometimes they would listen to those

stories that Dayuma and Rachel and my mother told them, and other times it didn't seem at

all, it didn't matter to them, but they did believe that there was a God.

And I'm just thankful that I got to live a little over two years with those Indians.

I was perfectly happy, played just like any little three-year-old would play three to

five-year-old, and when I was five, we had been living in this hut with no walls.

My mother was tired of dirt and stuff getting on our few belongings, no walls, as she said

around that little hut, so she had a house built with walls, and Keach was came into the

little village of Tijuana to build that house, we had screen windows, and she had not as much

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