One day as Father and I were returning from our walk we found the Grote Markt cordoned off by a double ring of police and soldiers. A truck was parked in front of the fish mart; into the back were climbing men, women, and children, all wearing the yellow star. . . . "Father! Those poor people!" I cried. . . . "Those poor people," Father echoed. But to my surprise I saw that he was looking at the solders now forming into ranks to march away. "I pity the poor Germans, Corrie. They have touched the apple of God's eye.

Surely there is no more wretched sight that the human body unloved and uncared for.

If the enemy cannot make you BAD, he’ll make you BUSY.

I looked on Jesus and the dove of peace entered my heart. I looked at the dove of peace; and lo...off he went.

You never so touch the ocean of God's love as when you forgive and love your enemies.

Faith is like radar that sees through the fog.

Thank you, Lord, that You are the Conqueror and that You want to make us more than conquerors.