“Hello? This is Dakota Baptist Church.”

“Sarahcanyoubringmeapop??”

One of my responsibilities the summer I was seventeen was to answer the church phone. The caller was a twelve year old girl. She spoke so quickly that all her words ran together, and we had the same conversation everyday.

“Well, where are you?”

“Atmyhouse.”

“Where’s your house?”

“Nexttomygrandmother’s!”

Needless to say, it took me a long time to figure out where the girl lived, but when I did, I brought a ch...