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New Hampshire stone walls A few summers ago, we went on a mission trip with several members of our church to New Hampshire. We took the church bus, which is not a bus at all. I call it a “people mover.” You’ve seen them: more round than square with huge windows. Well, off we went, excited about all the opportunities awaiting us in an unknown land. If you’ve never been to the New England states, just let me tell you, there are some beautiful areas, especially in New Hampshire. They have lush green mountains, old barns and houses, streams that you know are just teeming with trout, beautiful lakes. What stood out most to us were the stone walls. They were magnificent, surrounding fields of wildflowers, historic homes or just neatly placed along a narrow road. My female companions and I admired them throughout our stay. As time for us to come home began to draw close, we started talking about a special souvenir to take home. Not just anything would do. Our host suggested we each take a rock, and we knew exactly where we could find them. Our husbands thought we were nuts, especially when we signed each other’s rock. But much to my delight, the only comment my frugal husband had about the extra weight in the back of the bus was, “At least home is downhill.” Wanda Garren
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