Dear God,
This is one of my occasional letters to you celebrating a special occasion, this a trip to Long Island’s East End. We were received so happily and coordinately.
To begin with, we stopped at a farm stand off Exit 69 and I had in mind to get one of their home-baked pies. I chose a blueberry pie with crumb topping, without even opening the cover to look at it. When I brought it up to the counter the farm girl waiting on us said, “Twenty twenty-five.”
I mean, it was a heavy pie but for me it didn’t warrant that price, sight unseen. I fumbled in my wallet and could only come up with a twenty dollar bill. I laid it on the counter; she took it and said, “That’s it.”
When we got home, what a surprise. It turned out to be the most delicious blueberry pie we’d ever tasted. In my ignorance you (God) had rewarded me.
Civilization 