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Our tummies rumbled --it was time for lunch. "What do ya say we head-in," I asked, as the girls strapped in. We careened down the mountain and caught the chairlift. My baby and I rode on one chair, behind her two, older sisters in another. The view ahead would make a great shot, I thought.

I pulled out my daughter's camera and snapped off a few. As I did, my baby said, "Ah, dad," while pointing ahead to the summit -- quickly coming into view. I frantically unzipped my ski jacket and slide the camera in. "Whew, that was close" I said to her.

We went inside and took off our gear. But then, I noticed it -- the camera was missing. We searched anxiously; nevertheless, the camera was gone. I was disappointed, and hurt for my daughter. It was her camera I lost -- her memories. "God, in your mercy, please help us find what's lost," I prayed.

Just when hope waned, a man approached us and asked: "Did you lose a camera?" You can imagine our joy and relief. "Yes, thank you we responded." As I woofed-down my lunch, Jesus' parable of the lost coin came to mind. It's ironic, I thought -- we'll frantically search for our missing toys; but when it comes to finding God's lost children, we sit put!

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