A godly woman, mother of six children, had come into a place of great stress. Her husband, absent in a distant city earning the livelihood, had been unfortunate; the needed remittances had failed to come to the wife and family; their last loaf of bread had been eaten at the evening meal.
The next morning, without a morsel of food in the house, the trustful mother set the table with seven plates, and gathering the children about her, said: "And now children we must ask God to supply our need." As she finished her petition for help one of the little ones cried out, "There is the Baker at the door." Immediately his knock was heard, and entering, he said, "I was stalled in the snow this morning and thought I would come in to get warm. By the way do you need any bread this morning?" "Yes," said the mother, "but we have no money to buy any." "What?" said the baker, as he glanced at the empty plates and took in the situation, "do you mean to say you have no bread for these children?" "Not a morsel," said the mother. "Well, you shall soon have some," said the kindhearted man, and going out quickly to his wagon he returned with seven loaves of bread and laid one at each plate. Thereupon, one of the little children, picking up a loaf in his arms, dancing around the room, crying out, "Mamma, I prayed for bread and God heard me, and sent me bread." "And me!" "And me!" chorused the rest of the glad-hearted little folk.
Each one of the little ones felt that God heard him personally and sent a loaf to him directly and individually. And was it not true?Taken from Prayer by J. H. McConkey.