My son, Mitchell, a kindergartener, practices
spelling with magnetic letters on the
refrigerator: "cat," "dog," "dad," and
"mom" have been proudly displayed for all to
see. One morning while getting ready for the day,
Mitchell bounded into the room with his arms
outstretched. In his hands were three magnetic
letters: G-O-D. "Look what I spelled, Mom!"
Mitch exclaimed, a proud smile on his face.
"That's wonderful!" I said. "Now go put them
on the fridge so Dad can see when he gets home
tonight." That Christian education is certainly
having an impact, I thought, happily. Just then, a
little voice called from the kitchen. "Mom? How
do you spell 'zilla?'"