In the bottom of an old pond lived some grubs who could not understand why none of their group came back after crawling up the stems of the lilies to the top of the water. They promised each other that the next one who was called to make the upward climb would return and tell what happened to him. Soon one of them felt the impulse to seek the surface; he rested himself on the top of a lily pad and went through a glorious transformation, which made him a dragonfly with beautiful wings. In vain he tried to keep his promise. Flying back and forth over the pond, he peered down on his friends below. Then he realized that even if they could see him they would not recognize such a radiant creature as one of their number. The fact that we cannot see our family or friends or communicate with them after the transformation, which we call death, is no proof that they cease to exist. Ours is a creative God, the maker of heaven and earth and all that lives on it. This God who is the giver of life most assuredly has a creative destiny for us beyond death . . . . Walter Dudley Cavert God Bless the Chesley Family . . . . from a friend and fellow hunter in Nebraska