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By Ianpassion Cooking on the firewood |
One cool evening, a young student came to visit his teacher in the countryside. The smell of wood smoke filled the air as the teacher was cooking over a fire made of dry firewood. The flames danced brightly, warming the small kitchen.
The student sat down quietly and said, “Teacher, I’ve decided not to join the others for worship anymore. I can pray to the Father by myself. I don’t need to gather with them.”
