There is a scripture in the Bible. As far as I know, it is not in all translations of the Bible. But this I know for certain: it is in the King James Version.
When I was 10, perhaps 11, Daddy preached the scripture from the roughhewn pine pulpit in the tiny one-room mountain church we attended. For all these years, it has clung to me like a small clump of red mud will cling to a pair ...
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