Don't Limit God

By the time I was in eighth grade, Dad's sick time benefits had run out. The union worked on getting him early retirement, but we went awhile without income. We used food stamps. Dad and Mom wouldn't give up the house to get on welfare. We got through this time, never feeling poor.
My cousin graduated in the spring, moving to Washington, D.C. Learning to live on her own, she shrunk some clothes with her first washing. On a visit home, she brought them for me at or around Christmas time. They fit me perfectly. I was thrilled because I loved Carol's style.
Clothes played an important part in my mom's raising of us. Having gone through the Great Depression, wearing clothes too big for several years or hand-me-downs from women for whom she baby-sat, she declared to my father, that her children would have new clothes, if she had to do without. He agreed, as he, too, couldn't afford a suit his senior year, causing him to drop out of school.
I remember wishing in the fall, as winter approached, to have some different clothes. I didn't voice this to my parents or really anyone. I can't say I even prayed about it. I knew we couldn't afford to shop like we used to do and I was all right about that. My clothes hadn't worn out or gotten small, I thought about new clothes, as a young teen-age girl would.
I think back on this and wonder if my mom prayed that I could have some new clothes. Shopping for us built pride in her, especially as she always hunted for bargains to get more outfits for us. Or Dad may have, as he, too, took pride in our clothes.
I grew from this experience. I learned my heavenly Father cares about new clothes for an eighth grade girl silently wishing for a little change in her wardrobe. He cares for all the details. Don't limit God in anything, big or small.