I yank the freezer door open and scoop a handful of ice from the purchased bag into her cup.
A few chunks fall on my feet, and I kick them out of the way.
I go out to the back kitchen and press the spigot on the white ceramic water crock.
I fill the cup with fresh bottled water.
She grabs the cup and gulps . . .
And then there’s a letter . . .
Meet me over at The Barn Door for the rest of the story.
And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones who is my disciple, truly I tell you, that person will certainly not lose their reward.