The following is an imaginative retelling of something that has actually happened. The first paragraph, though, is literally true.

My grandmother, who lived on Virginia’s Eastern Shore, made ceramic figurines. During the 1960’s, she made ceramic ponies for the gift shops in Chincoteague, where they have an annual pony roundup. One of my best childhood memories is visiting her at her home and learning about ceramics.

One day, I was at a cocktail party where a scientist friend and I struck up a conversation. We got into family history, and I mentioned that my grandmother had made ceramic figurines of Chincoteague ponies. “That’s very interesting,” he said. “Do you have one I can look at?” I was happy to oblige him, so I gave him one from my collection.

A week later, I ran into this same friend again. This time, he looked pensive. He had some hard news to break to me. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this,” he said, “but your grandmother did not make that ceramic pony. I took your figurine to the lab, and we did a thorough analysis. It turns out this figurine started out as liquid clay. This clay then entered a mold and hardened into a hollow object that resembled the pony. It was then exposed to a high temperature for a time. Then it was coated with a special glaze or paint which made it resemble a pony even more. Finally, it was exposed to an even higher temperature which made the finish smooth, polished, and permanent. This process produced your figurine.”

My friend was puzzled by the fact that I accepted his report so calmly. But I knew who owned and worked with the clay, the molds, and the kiln, and who applied the paint.

In this scientific and materialistic age, we can still acknowledge the sovereign hand of God in human affairs, and worship the One by whom and for whom the worlds were made.