Dear Sir…
I know I haven’t got the greatest track record, but seeing as I’m not here for me, I’d appreciate a moment of your time. I know you may agree with everybody in town that I’m crazy for feeling a certain sense of responsibility for Dixie and her baby, but that’s not important. What is is that the baby’s in trouble. I know it’s obvious to me that you didn’t think it was the baby’s time, because he’s still with us, and Gran always said that was how you took care of things, and that everything had its time, its place, and somehow all this fits into some pattern.
Well, what I’m wondering is—or, what I’m hoping—is that after all is said and done, that that baby has a very long and happy life. He’s so innocent, and so tiny, and his mama loves him so much. See, I think he deserves his chance at happiness just like anybody else.
Now, I know I’m not telling you anything you don’t know, and I don’t want to waste your time, but what I am saying is, Lord, I want a chance to see that baby grow up. Now, I’m not going to try to con you, and say something stupid like ‘I’ll straighten up and fly right if you give that boy a chance, if you let Dixie keep her son.’ But what I am saying to you is that I’ll give it one hell of a shot. (then, as Tad realizes that he just said "Hell" in his prayer to God, he gets a slightly embarrassed look on his face) Sorry.
Thankfully, Tad’s prayers were answered and Junior survived, much to everyone’s relief and delight.
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