Installment #5 re: The Continuing Saga of a Family’s Destruction Caused by Greed.

Narrator: Francis (Frank) T. Sganga …

This sad story can be found in its entirety at:

Wednesday, December 30, 2015

Way back in 1960, wife Babs and I bought a large Bayfront lot for $500 (Now worth $150,000!)
and soon thereafter had a home custom built that cost $17,000 (Now worth $250,000) where we
raised our four kids. Several years later we bought a lot adjoining ours, for $3,500 (I turned
down a $100,000 offer to sell it just a few years ago) that separated our property from a
city-owned park.

My recalcitrant kids still refused to accept Jeanie as family some 8 months after I married her.
However, we still maintained “a running battle” via exchanges of emails. In one of them, lawyer
son Brian suggested that I sign a “life-estate deed” that, in the event of my death, he would
acquire the house Jeanie and I lived in, and daughter Clare would acquire the adjoining lot.
I did without even reading the thing because I completely trusted him and thought that doing so
would bring us all back together again as family. I also thought it would be alike a “will”
where I could change my mind, if necessary.

Soon thereafter, it occurred to me that signing the deed would put Jeanie in jeopardy, since
in the event of my death, and the fact that they would not accept her, Brian would get the
house and THROW JEANIE OUT! So, when I went to the courthouse to change the wording of the
deed, I was told I couldn’t do it, and that I would have to get my lawyer’s help.

Then came the shocking news, I needed to get Brian and Clare to agree to deed the properties
back to me. As things stood, I couldn’t even sell the properties if I had to. Also, the lawyer
told me he didn’t do life-estate deeds that way by locking in his client as Brain did me.

After requesting my kids to return of my property to my control to protect Jeanie from being
homeless, I received this email letter from Clare:

Dear Dad:
I hope Jean’s surgery goes well, and that she is strong again soon. I know you are
very concerned about her. Steve and I are sincerely pleased that you have found
someone compatible to share your life with.
Please re-read the letter that we, your children wrote to you and see that we all
agree about the need you both have for a soulmate as each of us do also.
I forgive the cruel statements you have made in your letters, such as the “Sganga blood”
sentence; “us placing greater need on properties than on you; Failure to communicate.”
You have not telephoned since January, I have called regularly and sent you gifts. You
have known me for almost 54 years now and know that I am not a greedy person, nor is Steve.
This is not about greed.
You want to take away the Sganga homestead that you and mother promised was to be your
children’s and future generations. Who wants to disinherit whom? Brian and I both were
hoping to continue sharing Turnbull Bay with Rachel. Mary Scott and your future grandchildren
and great grandchildren. And you want to give everything away? The grief we are all feeling
is mutual.
Why do you feel the need to give away everything entirely? We do not understand where all
this is coming from. Again, please re-read our letter to you and you will see our hearts
are still caring. “Promises, commitments and family are to withstand changing times.”
Love, Clare
Notice the give away everything entirely sentence. That tells it all. Suppose I gave it all
to charity? Would they be as upset? Who cares? It’s for me to decide, not them. They don’t
need the money or the property. I wasn’t going to get into a letter-writing contest, but felt
I had to do it one more time. e-mailed this to Clare, copies to Brian and Laura:

My response:

Dear Clare:
I do not want to get into what has happened or has been said in the past, or what I did or you
did regarding communications between us. Brian’s not calling me in over a month is inexcusable,
especially since he told me he would return the house to my control as we chatted around the pool.
No mention was made about what would happen to Jeanie if I croaked and he owned the house.
Presumably then, he would tell her to get out. I waited for you to respond to my e-mail request
for return of control of my property, and the totally unexpected response was no.
You say you all grew up here. So what! Where can your kids say they grew up? Where is Rachel growing
up? Will she have fond memories of that home her Dad abandoned and which Jackie will probably sell?
All of your arguments are superficial, including telling me about Rachel’s reaction to the pictures
in Mom’s room being gone. I removed those of my parents and Mom’s because it was now Jean’s room, and
what’s the point of having pictures of four dead strangers staring at her?
I am attached to Jeanie as much as you are to Steve, and Brian is to Missy, and Laura is to Don. Would
any of you leave your spouses out in the cold? Your use of the house is frivolous compared to her need
for it, should she survive me, which is not guaranteed. None of you really need it.
Mother’s death changed everything regarding my situation. Finding another companion, (or my “live-in-lover”
as you insultingly called her) has been a blessing. I believe Laura poisoned the water, and is mainly
responsible for the current family fiasco. I have spoken to many people, including my buddies at racquetball
and my attorney, and they all shake their heads in disbelief; they can’t believe my children would put property
ahead of their father, which is exactly what you are doing, no matter how you try to rationalize it.
I am angry that you are choosing property over me. My reasoning is simple: If you had simply signed the
quit-claim deed, there would have been no need for all of this hogwash. Why you can’t see this is beyond me.
I will be seeing my attorney Tuesday to tell him to proceed with my case against Brian and the way he conned
me out of my property. (Why hasn’t he contacted me to argue otherwise?)
Once we go to court, we will have crossed the point of no return; it will be all over between us. It’s tragic,
considering how happy we were as a family, but you three have got me trapped in a corner, and I intend to fight
my way out. You should have known I would. I feel as betrayed as Caesar did when he was stabbed in the back by
his “friend” Brutus.

Installment #4

Installment #4 re: The Continuing Saga of a Family’s Destruction Caused by Greed.

Narrator: Francis (Frank) T. Sganga …

This sad story can be found in its entirety at:

Tuesday, December 29, 2015

On he next visit, Jeanie, 52, appeared at the door in a tight-fitting, low-cut dress that
exposed an ample amount of cleavage formed by her equally ample boobs. While we both sat
closely together at my computer, she said she thought there was sufficient evidence of
malpractice to warrant either going to court or filing a complaint with the Florida Board
of Physicians. We chatted a while and she told me she divorced her womanizing husband several
years ago and was having a hard time making ends meet.

Well, having a foxy woman within arms length caused my libido to kick in full force. Looking
into her eyes, I said, “Jeanie, it’s been a long time since I touched a woman, Do you mind?”
She smiled invitingly, and I began doing the male thing.

We eventually became an item, but secretly at first because I didn’t think my grown children
would approve of my being involved with a woman so soon after their mother died. One of the
serious dilemmas I faced was that daughter Laura hated Jeanie with a passion, and it wasn’t
till much later that I found out why.

I had a home built for Laura on a $100,000 three-acre parcel of land I owned. She and her
loser husband lied in a hovel, and I felt duty-bound to help her enhance her life style since
I could well afford it. To try to get her to accept Jeanie, after we married on December 4, 2004,
I deeded her an adjoining $100,000 three acre parcel of land also worth $100,000. I didn’t work.
She, nor any of my other children would accept Jeanie, and of course, they didn’t respond to the
wedding invitations I sent them.

After weeks of my visiting Jeanie in her apartment, in a rundown neighborhood, and her visiting
me at home, I invited her to come live with me, and she did. When my kids found out, all hell
broke loose! We exchanged dozens of emails, in which I tried to explain my dire need for companionship
at my age, and the deteriorating effect loneliness has on surviving spouses. In one email from daughter
Clare, she referred to Jeanie as my “live-in lover.”

Clare’s attitude toward my living with Jeanie was hypocritical. Her son Jon lived with Beth for some
two years before marrying, and put Babs and me in a quandary about what we would do if they visited us.
The idea of letting them sleep in the same room together did not appeal to our sense of propriety.
When we attended their eventual wedding, they acted and dressed like two innocent virgins who were
about to embark on a new adventure.
I thought it odd that they would defy convention by living together, then embrace convention when it
suited them. Her wearing a white wedding gown, which supposedly represented “purity,” seemed to be an
anachronism. Long before they married, Steve and Clare even helped them buy a home. In any case, all
four parents who were “devout” Christians and Bible adherents, were deliriously happy with the proceedings.
Hey, what about me? How come I’m a pariah?

To be continued ….

Installment #3 Re; The Destruction of the Sganga Family

Entry #3 re: The Continuing Saga of a Family’s Destruction Caused by Greed.

Narrator: Francis (Frank) T. Sganga …

This sad story can be found in its entirety at:

Monday, December 28, 2015


Many studies conclude that prolonged loneliness can kill you. Suddenly and unexpectedly losing wife
Babs after almost 60 years of a loving companionship became more and more unbearable as days dissolved
into weeks and the weeks slowly, but inexorably, dissolved into months. It took a while for me to stop
crying myself to sleep as I vainly tried to stop regurgitating the awful week I spent by her bedside
watching her die until a ping on the digital monitor she was attached to announced the fact that the
end of a beautiful woman’s life had arrived.

At 82, I was still virile, physically fit enough to play racquetball and handle an 800 lb. Yamaha
motorcycle, as I still do today. The many years of joyful cuddling with Babs made me became an
“affection addict” that I was forced to give up “cold turkey” when I lost her.

Making daily entries into my blog helped ease the pain. This is from my book: To Gen X, Baby Boomers
and Millennials, with Love:

Early one evening several months later, as I sat at my computer, a woman called, and I responded in my
usual fashion, “Hi, this is Frank Sganga. To whom am I speaking?” I respond this way because many people
start talking and I don’t know who the hell they are, to stop solicitors before they get wound up, and
to ward off wrong number calls.
“This is Jeanie Baker.
“Jeanie Baker?”
“Yes, but I used to be Jeanie Wheaton, remember me?”
“Now I do.”
We knew the Wheaton’s well. Being strict Catholics, they wound up having seven children. Since Jeanie
played frequently with daughter Laura, we knew her best, and she and Babs were good buddies. On top of
that, Jeanie and Laura were in the same 4th grade class that Babs taught at Sacred Heart School.
“May I speak to Babs?”
Oh God, I thought, hesitated, then dreading what I had to tell her, I finally said the awful words,
“Babs died October 4th.” I lost it during the few moments of silence that followed, and Jeanie finally
responded, “I’m so sorry.”
I didn’t know what to say. She helped by asking, “May I come over and give you a hug.” I was on the
verge of begging off the hug because I was in no frame of mind to rehash what happened, but, I felt I
owed her at least that, since she and Babs were close, and reluctantly acquiesced.
When she appeared at the door, I remembered her face and winning smile, and invited her in. After giving
me a hug, we went back to my computer room where I was fine-tuning the diary I wrote during that horrible
week in the hospital for submission to an attorney. I chatted with her for a few minutes about where she
lives and what she was doing.
When she said she was working as a health care provider,
I said, “Jeanie I’m not going to tell you what happened. It’s too painful. This diary I wrote tells the
whole story. The bottom line is that I feel strongly that what happened to Babs was due primarily to
negligence and incompetence. Since you are in the medical field, I would appreciate it if you would read
this and analyze it to help me determine if I have a case against her oncology doctor and the hospital.”
Wanting to keep the visit brief, I got up, got a goodbye hug, and lead her to the door.

Little did I realize the unbelievable consequences that would follow after that short visit.

To be continued …

Life is truly a roll of the dice!

Entry #2 re: The continuing saga of a family’s destruction caused by Greed.

Narrator: Francis (Frank) T. Sganga …

This sad story can be found in its entirety at:
Sunday, December 27, 2015

Until wife Babs died on October 4, 2003, the six members of the Sganga family were close-knit and happy.
One of our most memorable adventures was a two-week trip we made to visit my younger sister, Anne, in California.
I had just finished writing a 6th grade science book for the American Book Co. and used my royalty to buy a new
station wagon that had a rack on its roof that enabled us to carry along a tent, etc. so we could camp in State
and Federal parks each night.
After traveling some 500 miles on a hot midsummer day, in a car that had no air conditioning, we finally arrived
at a state park setting up our tent, and oldest son Paul and I headed for the showers. Half way through, daughter
Clare entered and exclaimed, “Dad! What are you doing in here?” It turned out it was a women’s rest room, and
as Paul and I scooted out, I found out what happened. As we walked toward the restrooms, there was a sign that
said “women,” but since we approached at an angle, all I could see was the “men” in the word “women.”

That was 50 years before Babs’ totally unexpected unnecessary death. A few months before her demise, a 2-inch
cancer was successfully removed from her colon. However, her surgeon said there were some cancer cells in her
lymph glands, and we followed his advice to play it safe via chemo treatments. In the oncology department at
New Smyrna Beach’s Fish Medical Center, she was put under the care of a Pakistan-trained doctor, named Abdul
Sorathia, who was mainly responsible for her premature death. (A detailed description of why is included in my
Kindle ebook: To Gen X, Baby Boomers and Millennials, with Love.)

I spent a full week by her bedside helplessly trying to soothe her as I watched her descend into a coma and die.
Suddenly losing a loving companion of 57 years brought me to the brink of total despair, and I really didn’t give
a damn whether I lived or died. Many times, during that awful week, as I looked at her withering away, I truly
wished that it was I in that bed instead of her.

Sitting at home, totally alone after her funeral, was soul-wrenching. I was 82. I kept asking myself, “What the hell
do I do now?” After a few months of listless living, while making an entry into my website that gave me some modicum
of relief from my distress, a life preserver was thrown to me in the form of a phone call. It was a life-changer that
subsequently brought about unbelievable changes in my life.

To be continued….

The Truth, the Whole Truth, and nothing but the Truth

The Truth, the Whole Truth and Nothing but the Truth
This continuing story will be posted on Facebook and my blog at

I tell it hoping it will help others gain some of the wisdom I have gained
as I struggled to make my life as meaningful as possible.

Truth sits upon the lips
of dying men.
Matthew Arnold

Saturday, December 26, 2015

Call me Frank. Today, at the local library, I experienced a dizzy spell. My sight became impaired and to play it safe, I told my wife May about about it and gave her the key to the car for the drive back home We considered going to the E. R., but I decided to wait it out. That was two hours ago, and I’ve been back to normal for the past hour. I checked WEBMD, and predictably, there numerous possible causes, including low blood pressure, which I have had most of my adult life.

Of course, as I approach 95 on April 29, 2016, I am acutely aware of my vulnerability to being harvested by the Grim Reaper. who sits on one shoulder while the Mortician sits on the other one. Truly, my only concern about dying is that wife May would have a very difficult time taking care of our two-story home, large yards, and the rental unit we are renovating for sale next April.

I am about to tell you a very sad story about what has happened to me and my family after my first wife, Babs, of 57 years, was killed by a 2nd chemo treatment at the local hospital in 2003, that on the face of it, seems tragic, but ended up with my being “born again.”

Babs and I had four children, two boys and two girls that currently range in age from 50 to 68. As things stand now, I have legally disinherited all of them to keep them from having any claims to my assets, which I have willed to May, my loving wife of six years This Christmas (yesterday) my four adult children completely ignored my existence, as they did on my last birthday and Fathers Day. I have two small grandchildren and three great grandchildren I have never seen, nor do I know their names.

The situation seems sad, and would probably be tragic if I were a widower who chose to live alone after Babs died, grieving myself to death, as often happens upon the death of one old spouse. Not long ago I read that when it happened to one couple, the other one died just days later.

I’m a different breed of cat with a common sense perspective. Babs died 12 years ago, and although I grieved and cried a lot afterwards, I came to realize the wisdom of this quotation:

Excess of grief for the dead is madness
for it is an injury to the living,
and the dead know it not.

The song, Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina, just popped into my head as I pondered what to say next.
Well, don’t cry for me either. I’ve never been happier. The paths I intuitively chose to take that satisfied the demands of my Soul have led to a peaceful state of mind that I consider to be equivalent to Nirvana. You see, the reason is that “I’ve got a life!” And, the greatest contributor to that, is my wife, May. After we married, she inspired me to write most of the 11 books now being sold at Amazon’s Kindle Store that bear my formal name Francis T. Sganga. But, best of all, she is providing me with the kind of priceless companionship that a man my age is so lucky to have.

If the Guinness Book of Records had a category titled The Most Ungrateful Children in the World, my four kids would be at the top of the list. As this story unfolds, you will find out why. In my next entry I will begin this woeful tale with Babs’ totally unexpected, unnecessary death
that was the most traumatic experience in my life. We humans are loathe to believe the reality of Death. As Morrie says in the book Tuesdays with Morrie:

Everyone knows they are going to die,
but nobody believes it.

To be continued….


Tuesday – December 22, 2015
I am an ongoing experiment titled:


I will be 95 next April 29, 2016, alive or dead. Right now:

1. I have no significant ailments.
2. I take NO PILLS, not even vitamins.
3. I honeymoon about once a week, and much to my surprise and delight,
I can still experience an orgasm.
4. I played 4 games of 4-wall racquetball (doubles) this morning at the Port Orange
YMCA, winning 3/4.
5. My blood pressure averages 110/70 and at 5 ft. 6 in., I weigh 157 lbs. (I don’t
allow myself to exceed 160 lbs.)
6. I do not eat bacon, sausages, hamburgers, cold cuts, beef or pork, fried food,
store-bought cookies or chips, candy or ice cream (frozen yogurt is O.K.)
7. I do eat fish, chicken breasts, and all kinds of beans, including roasted peanuts.
8. I strengthen my arms and shoulders for racquetball playing using 10 lb. dumbbells
and my grip using a handgrip while watching TV and in my car while driving.
9. I ride an 800 Yamaha Motorcycle for fun and psychological reasons.
10. I take a power nap every day for about 2 hours after lunch.
11. After a breakfast of a bowl of raisin bran and a cup of coffee, I sit on my
porch overlooking the flora and fauna in our back yard bordering Turnbull Bay
mediating about my many blessings and the miracle of being alive.

1. I am the writer of 11 non-fiction ebooks currently being sold at Amazon’s Kindle Book store.
Most of them were written after I turned 90. (Go to Kindle Books and type in
Francis T. Sganga books.)
2. I am a lifetime learner who wants to learn all he can about LIFE and the UNIVERSE he lives
in. For example: Is there an intelligent Designer? Why do I exist? Where did LIFE, the MIND
and CONSCIOUSNESS come from? Is this all there is? What is the SOUL? Where did our
SENSE OF BEAUTY come from? (Cows don’t notice rainbows.)
3. I avoid the BAD KARMA emanating from violent, mayhem movies and TV. As with eating, I
ask myself: Is this good for my physical and mental health? Does it have any REDEEMING
4. I told my wife early on: Let’s concentrate on doing all we can to make each other happy.
5. I strictly adhere to the GOLDEN RULE and obey the TEN COMMANDMENTS.
6. I try to help fellow human beings as much as possible and that’s what my books are all about.

Our Weird, God-given Minds

One More of Frank Sganga’s Parting Thoughts

Being on a tightrope is living;
everything else is waiting.
Karl Wallenda

Eckhart Toll wrote a hugely popular, best-selling book, The Power of Now, which owes
its success to its being promoted by Oprah Winfrey on her TV show. To my mind,
The Power of the Future is where it’s at because the Future is where Hope resides.
Most of my days are uneventful, and some of them suck. So, it’s being able to look
forward to a better tomorrow that encourages me to accept the humdrum todays as I
wait for something to happen that brightens my life and makes it worth living.

This is one of the reasons I spend so much of my time thinking and writing. Tolle
says “Not being able to stop thinking is a terrible affliction.” Not to my mind.
I enjoy rummaging through my mind; it’s the source of my creativity, and responsible
for my having written 11 books after turning 90. Sure, it sometimes regurgitates
unpleasant memories, but I quickly tell it, “Don’t go there!,” deliberately replacing
the unwanted thoughts with pleasant ones.

During most of my teenage years, our family of nine was on welfare. As the oldest child,
I was obliged to stand in long lines for free food. It embarrassed me so I vowed that I
would do all I could to make as much money as possible when I became an adult. The Now
was tolerated because there was Hope waiting in the wings to ease the pain of poverty.

We all constantly look forward to better tomorrows. Parents want their kids to do better
than they are doing. I Hope at least one of my books becomes a best seller. It may not
happen, but it gives me something to look forward to, like finally honeymooning with
someone you dearly love after tying the knot.

Life consists of innumerable Peaks and Valleys. The pleasures we enjoy when we are at
the top of a mountain observing the glory of our natural surroundings are the moments
that make life worth living. And, when we are down in the valley, we can always look
at the top of the mountain and plan for ways to get there. It’s all in our Minds and
how we get them to view the wonderful, God-given world we live in. I always keep in
mind what English poet John Milton said in Paradise Lost:

“The mind is its own place,
and in itself
can make a heaven of hell,
a hell of heaven.”

A Letter to Channel 9 in Orlando

Francis T. Sganga
2506 Sunset Drive
New Smyrna Beach, FL 32168-5852

October 1, 2015

John Keyes
490 E. South Street
Orlando, FL 32801

Dear Mr. Keyes:

The enclosed documents reveal an insidious tactic employed by corporate-controlled
dental clinics that, nationwide, involve the fleecing of mostly poor people and the
elderly who are victims of a governmental system that precludes their being able to
get help or to defend themselves.

I am one of the those victims, and I have sought justice by contacting several agencies,
including the governor’s office, to no avail. The bottom line: There are no avenues in
our state that have the authority to hold corporate dental clinics accountable for their
unethical and illicit shenanigans, not even Florida’s Board of Dentistry.

There are millions of dollars being made by corporate dental clinics at the expense of
thousands of people like myself. Even if the clinics cannot be brought to justice, the
least you can do as a public service is to warn people about the pitfalls they may
encounter by going to clinics run by unscrupulous dentists.

Francis T. Sganga


I woke to the World
and it said to me,
“Son you were made
from my debris.
Now it’s sink or swim
like all the rest
it’s up to you
to pass the test.”
I looked at the World
and it looked right back,
it seemed impossible
a thing to crack.
How small am I
in so vast a Universe
that confounds the brain
and what’s even worse.
It’s cold and care less
about its kin,
who must make their way
as best they can.
Then I pondered the World
thinking should I be,
just another man,
like a fish in the sea?
That flow with the tides
and swim in schools
thinking loner fish
to be such fools.
“No!” said I
to this other me,
I cannot be
like fish in the sea!”
My Soul rebels,
I know not why,
I’ve got to find,
this other “I.”
I studied books,
I questioned all,
“What’s my role in life,
will I hear my call?”
No answer came
for too many years
while my fruitless search
merely raised more fears.
Could Life be such
that one never knows
what’s best in life
for him to do?
Yet, as I searched
and as I thought,
unknown to me
came the thing I sought.
“Thank God!” I said,
I found my way
for I could not stand
another day.
Not knowing the thing
that I must do.
For though the World is cold
and could care less too
this does not hold
for me and you.

Review of my new book

Official Review: A Heartfelt Thank You to My Intelligent Designer.
by Vanessa 07 Sep 2015
[Following is the official review of ”
A Heartfelt Thank You to My Intelligent Designer
“I became increasingly aware of the awesomeness and majesty of our Universe,
and the miraculous existence of the millions of fauna and flora spread out
across the vast expanse of our home planet, Earth.”

A Heart-felt Thank You to My Intelligent Designer – All about the Wonders,
Mysteries and Miracles in Life by Francis T. Sganga is an inspiring and
eye-opening book about the miracles and gifts from the Creator. This non-fiction
book discusses the controversial topic of creation from both a scientific and
religious point of view. Readers embark on a journey of realization that opens
one’s eyes to the blessings and beauty of life. This science teacher’s insightful
opinions will allow readers to gain a higher appreciation for the things we often
take for granted.

Francis T. Sganga is a 94 year old man from Brooklyn New York. He spent three and
a half years serving the army in World War II but now spends his days playing
competitive raquetball three times a week and rides a Silver Star motorcycle.
Saganga has dedicated most of his adult life to helping and teaching young children
and adults. After several years of working as a chemistry and physics teacher, he
went on to open his own learning center where he tutored students of all ages,
including teachers, in science and mathematics.
A Heart-felt Thank You to My Intelligent Designer is an uplifting novel discussing
the miracles of life and the 5 senses, the power of words and music, and the value
of your individual opinions and pleasures.

This empowering story teaches readers the miracle of life. The author explains his
experience within a classroom witnessing the growth of a chick in an egg. He goes
on to explain that he believes that it is a beautiful miracle how a small fertilized
egg the size of a dot can turn into a baby chick in only 21 days. Sganga also shows
great appreciation to the 5 senses. He shines light on the value of the under
appreciated senses by challenging readers to go without them for a certain amount of
time. After attempting to walk around my house with my eyes closed, Sganga has helped
me develop a overwhelming gratitude to sight. Another large topic the author discusses
in his book is the necessity for individuality and pleasures. Without the senses,
humans would not be able to survive, but without pleasure, the enjoyment of life
could not be fulfilled.

I thoroughly enjoyed the introduction to the book. I felt as though the author was
speaking to the reader as though they were a friend he had known for years. I also
really enjoyed the scientific insight the author brought to the book. There were
many diagrams and pictures the author added to ensure readers understood what he
was discussing. Though, I did not enjoy how many times the author wrote “Google it”
in his work. I feel as though he could have expanded more on the subject rather than
encouraging readers to put their reading to a halt and use Google to understand the topic.

I give this book a rating of 4 out of 4 stars. I feel that the book was very inspiring
and encouraging. This novel allows readers to think about questions regarding creation
and teach them to live each day as though it is their last. Each chapter introduced a
new topic and a new idea to think about. A good book leaves readers thinking, and I believe
that this novel did a great job at getting readers to think outside the box.
A Heartfelt Thank You to My Intelligent Designer
View: on Bookshelves | on Amazon