It doesn't seem that long ago.  It is as clear as yesterday.  It was in the morning, 6:30, a Sunday morning, and I heard the patter of little feet.  And the patter of the feet came into the kitchen, and it was dark in our kitchen except for the light above the kitchen table.  I was putting the finishing touches on the Sunday sermon, and the little child came in half asleep, and he said to me, "Where's the scissors, Dad?"  I gave him the scissors and he went over…