There are the names of all the books of the Bible in these paragraphs (not counting 1's and 2's) See how many of the 59 you can find. By Jim Smith.

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My name is Samuel Levit. I customized my name because people made remarks about me being related to the furniture company Sam Levitz. My son is named Odus. Don't ask me to explain his name the story is too complex. Odus likes music. The other day he told me he had written the song of songs. He acts like it's the next big hit, but it left me only lukewarm. I hope he finds something else to do. I also have a daughter named Diana. She is looking so hard for a job. A Diahann Brewster called yesterday to interview my daughter. Two women, with basically the same first name, talking together on the phone, that was a most confusing conversation let me tell you! The Brewsters own a tax preparation service next door to the Francophile Monastery. Father Eugene, Sister Mary Francis, and Johnson & Johnson are clients of theirs. Father Eugene is from Romanshire, Northern Ireland. He said he studied Greek in Corinth. I answered that he is a real pro! Verbs and nouns in the Greek are difficult to learn.

I asked Mr. Brewster for tax advice. He said that tips, alms, and donations were deductible, I just need a receipt. My brother Philipp asked if travel expenses were deductible. He just came back from the Holy land. He toured Judea. The tour guide, Timothy, said that it usually costs a lot of money to take side trips unexpectedly. The tour group had asked if they could see the historic sites of the Galatians, Colossians, and the Thessalonians. The tour guide said no, but the Ephesian site is open. Philipp said a hag gained access to his travel bag. "Philipp," I answered, "did she get your camera?" He said he had it with him or she would have. Philipp said he would be in a jam, especially with mom, if that lady had taken the camera. That's because it belongs to her.

Philipp told me about a souvenir shop he visited. He said he saw a pez, rabbi candy dispenser. Imagine that! The woman at the counter was named Lisa. I, ah, think that was her name. Anyway, she told my brother those aren't the ones she ordered. She had ordered a rabbi statue along with pez dispensers, but the manager, Joe, let the stock boy practice ordering that day. "Do you like them," she asked. "The company said I can reorder any number should the need arise." Lisa said the rabbi pez dispenser was endemic; a holy man designed them. I believe the holy man is legitimate, she explained. He has a very mild persona, humble from head to toe.

The souvenir shop has books about the different battles of the Holy Land. One particular book was about Jere, MIA. He went missing about 586 BC. Lamentations over his disappearance could be heard for miles, or so the story goes. I heard it straight from a Lachish citizen. One hemi-Ahmadiyan Muslim was there and he verified the story of Jere. Jerusalem, at the world's most fought over section of land in human history, has a violent past. According to prophecy, the future doesn't look good either. My brother Philipp said he had a revelation and everything will turn out fine in the end. He asked me if I believed him. I said, "nope, terminate this charade right now!" He said "It's the truth, read it for yourself!"

Lisa, the souvenir shop attendant, has a sister who works for the chronicle. She is a photojournalist. Her name is Jo. Nahant, Massechusetts is where she lives, but she travels a lot for the newspaper. Egypt had a big story break last month. The editor wanted the best her paper could send, so they sent Jo. Shu, an Egyptian god of the air, was up in arms over smog in Cairo. All they got was a picture of a dust storm. I think it was a hoax. I told my friend Dan, I eliminated Cairo from my travel itinerary.

Philipp wanted to take a cruise from Finland to Scotland, over Christmas. I protested, "We'll, freeze!" "Kiel Canal is the way through Denmark," he said. "It will be fun and I can catch up on my physics paper while we are at sea," he said. "Now, lets see where did I leave off? Oh yes, the deuteron." "O, my Philipp. You're a sick man. A crowd of judges wouldn't convict me if I tossed you overboard." Well, we went on the cruise and just like I said, I froze! "Chari! Ahoy, Chari! Wait for me," a voice said. It was the cruiseline dance instructor. She was late to port and almost missed the ship. The ship's chef happened to be a college friend of mine, Gilliam Eccles. I, as tester of food, got half price on my cruise tickets for my services. That made the trip more worthwhile. Ship security was provided by the National Intelligence Authority. Zeph, a NIA hand-picked agent, was head of security. H.A. Bakk, Ukrainian composer and conductor, personally headed a shipboard concert on the final day of the cruise. It was the highlight of the trip! Well, that's my story and I'm sticking to it!

Ruth went to her mail box and there was only one letter. She picked it up and looked at it before opening, but then she looked at the envelope again. There was no stamp, no postmark, only her name and address.

She read the letter: Dear Ruth, I'm going to be in your neighborhood Saturday afternoon and I'd like to stop by for a visit. Love Always, Jesus

Her hands were shaking as she placed the letter on the table. "Why would the Lord want to visit me? I'm nobody special. I don't have anything to offer." With that thought, Ruth remembered her empty kitchen cabinets. "Oh my goodness, I really don't have anything to offer. I'll have to run down to the store and buy something for dinner." She reached for her purse and counted out its contents. Five dollars and forty cents.

"Well, I can get some bread and cold cuts, at least." She threw on her coat and hurried out the door. A loaf of french bread, a half-pound of sliced turkey, and a carton of milk leaving Ruth with grand total of twelve cents to last her until Monday. Nonetheless, she felt good as she headed home, her meager offerings tucked under her arm.

"Hey lady, can you help us, lady?" Ruth had been so absorbed in her dinner plans, she hadn't even noticed two figures huddled in the alleyway. A man and a woman, both of them dressed in little more than rags. "Look lady, I ain't got a job, ya know, and my wife and I have been living out here on the street, and, well, now it's getting cold and we're getting kinda hungry and, well, if you could help us, lady, we'd really appreciate it."

Ruth looked at them both. They were dirty, they smelled bad and, frankly, she was certain that they could get some kind of work if they really wanted to. "Sir, I'd like to help you, but I'm a poor woman myself. All I have is a few cold cuts and some bread, and I'm having an important guest for dinner tonight and I was planning on serving that to Him."

"Yeah, well, okay lady, I understand. Thanks anyway." The man put his arm around the woman's shoulders, turned and headed back into the alley. As she watched them leave, Ruth felt a familiar twinge in her heart.

"Sir, wait!" The couple stopped and turned as she ran down the alley after them. "Look, why don't you take this food. I'll figure out something else to serve my guest." She handed the man her grocery bag.

"Thank you lady. Thank you very much!" "Yes, thank you!" It was the man's wife, and Ruth could see now that she was shivering.

"You know, I've got another coat at home. Here, why don't you take this one." Ruth unbuttoned her jacket and slipped it over the woman's shoulders. Then smiling, she turned and walked back to the street without her coat and with nothing to serve her guest.

"Thank you lady! Thank you very much!"

Ruth was chilled by the time she reached her front door, and worried too. The Lord was coming to visit and she didn't have anything to offer Him. She fumbled through her purse for the door key. But as she did, she noticed another envelope in her mailbox. "That's odd. The mailman doesn't usually come twice in one day." She took the envelope out of the box and opened it.

Dear Ruth, It was so good to see you again. Thank you for the lovely meal And thank you, too, for the beautiful coat. Love Always, Jesus

The air was still cold, but even without her coat, Ruth no longer noticed.

With a timid voice and idolizing eyes, the little boy greeted his father as he returned from work, "Daddy, how much do you make an hour?"

Greatly surprised, but giving his boy a glaring look, the father said, "Look, son, not even your mother knows that. Don't bother me now, I'm tired."

"But Daddy, just tell me please!? How much do you make an hour?" the boy insisted.

The father, finally giving up, replied, "Twenty dollars per hour."

"Okay, Daddy? Could you loan me ten dollars?" the boy asked.

Showing his restlessness and positively disturbed, the father yelled, "So that was the reason you asked how much I earn, right? Go to sleep and don't bother me anymore!"

It was already dark and the father was meditating on what he said and was feeling guilty. Maybe he thought, his son wanted to buy something.

Finally, trying to ease his mind, the father went to his son's room.

"Are you asleep, son?" asked the father.

"No, Daddy. Why?" replied the boy, partially asleep.

"Here's the money you asked for earlier, " the father said.

"Thanks, Daddy!" rejoiced the son. He put his hand under his pillow and removed some money.

"Now I have enough!! Now I have twenty dollars!" he said.

The father gazed at his son, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Daddy, would you sell me one hour of your time?"

Source unknown

Six-year old Angie and her four-year old brother Joel were sitting together in church. Joel giggled, sang and talked out loud. Finally, his big sister had had enough. "You're not supposed to talk out loud in church."

"Why? Who's going to stop me?" Joel asked.

Angie pointed to the back of the church and said, "See those two men standing by the door? They're hushers."