here do the days come from?" asked James, one morning. "The days come from God," answered his mother quietly. "A new day comes to us each morning. It is God's gift to us. Each day comes to us new and clean and fresh, so that we may fill it with good deeds, happy thoughts, and kind words. No two persons' days are alike. Your day is different from mine. I cannot fill your day for you. I can help you, and your father can help you, but that is all we can do about it. Your day is your very own -- God's gift to you -- and you must fill it yourself in your own way." James was quiet for a few minutes, and then asked, "Where do the days go?" "They go back to God," replied his mother. "They go back to Him just as we have filled them. Each morning comes to us like a clean white sheet of paper, and at night it goes back to God filled with the stories and pictures we have lived into it."           James stood and looked out the window for a long time before he spoke. His mother saw that he was thinking, and so did not disturb him. At length he turned, with a sigh, and looked up at his mother and smiled. "What is it, dear, that troubles you?" asked his mother. "I was just thinking," answered James gravely, "that I wish I could get back some of the days I have lived. I am sorry for every bad thing that I put into any of my days that went back to God. I didn't think about it in that way."           This should make us stop to think, as we live each second, minute, hour, and day of our life, how are we living it? Are we going to be sorry for something that will go back to God? Something to think about.

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