Maureen looked straight at Grandma. "Last Sunday in church," she spoke quickly and earnestly, "Preacher read: 'There's a time to sow and a time to reap.'"
"Yes, that's what he said," Paul nodded. "And he said, 'There's a time to cry and a time to laugh.'"
"'And a time to love and a time to hate,'" Maureen added.
Paul began shouting like the preacher. "'There's a time to make war and a time to make peace.'"
"How 'bout that!" Grandma's eyes were shinier than her spectacles. "You heard every bit of the message, and here I thought you two was doing crossword puzzles all the time! Now then, what's the made-up part?" she asked encouragingly.
The answer came loud and in unison: "There's a time to go to school and a time to stay home."
"And just when is that?" Grandma demanded.
"When a mare is ready to foal," Paul said with a look of triumph.
The kitchen grew very still. Grandma shook out the damp towel and hung it above the stove. To gain thinking time she put the knives and forks in the drawer and each teaspoon in the spoon rack. Then she glanced from one eager face to the other. "You two ever see a wild mare birthing her young'un?"
They both shook their heads.