To have lost a golden ring, and one morning, to have it replaced with an equally brilliant one on your night table is the stuff of fairy tales. But this morning, threading a difficult end of the coaxial cable, doing what I could do two years ago, was my son, a new, different man from me, not exercising his last skills, but on the cusp of new potential, cross-legged on my carpet, come to the rescue of my dying skills in updating my PC.
So goes the tide of life, replacing the old with the new. In Nature, the old yields to entropy, and disappears, forever, but in the world of the Christian, the old is preserved, also forever. The stuff of fairy-tales? Not on your quantum atom night table; there are things that just don’t disappear.
Civilization 