Wings over England

It was one of those rare autumn days in England. The sky was blue as blue. The trees cast dark shadows across the hillside. The sheep wandered contentedly along the slope. To Cherry Ramsey, for one full moment it seemed that nothing could possibly be wrong with the world. Then with a sudden light spring she shot from her sunny corner to scan the sky and to exclaim softly to the collie at her feet: "Flash old boy, it\'s an airplane. Perhaps it\'s a bomb-bomber." That last word always choked her. How she hated those Nazi marauders! No, all was not right with the world! Perhaps it never would be again for a long, long time! "But Flash old boy," there was hot fire in her voice, "we must all do our best and trust God. That\'s what mother always says, and she\'s nearly always right."