Miss Puddleduck, sitting on the piano stool swinging her wellies together; tap, tap, tap. I ask her if she wants to go and pick wild strawberries.
“In a minute.” She replies. “I’m just waiting for God to call me and tell me when He’s found my pound.” She lost her pound she got for one of her milk teeth, yesterday, on the trampoline. Off she goes outside to look for it again. I reassure that it will turn up. Is there any wonder the meaning of her middle names translate to “pure faith”?
Her pound was found.