Jesus Jewel of Heaven
He was the Richest Man in the Valley. There was no disputing it. Secure and confident, he was escorting his house guests to their expensive cars, when John, his gardener, cap in hand, approached him to give him a message. The man was poor and shabbily dressed and looked embarrassed to be talking to the Richest Man in the Valley. He shuffled from one foot to the other. “Well, out with it, man,” his employer snapped impatiently, his eyes on his departing guests. “Sir,” John stuttered. He was obviously very nervous. “Sir—I know this sounds mighty strange, but I had a dream last night that really upset me. I dreamt that the Richest Man in the Valley would die tonight at midnight! You all right, sir?” he finished lamely, feeling exceptionally stupid. His boss stared at him. John was all right as gardeners go. He worked hard and was honest and trustworthy, but the Richest Man in the Valley was aware that he attended the little evangelical church in the village and was one of those “born-again Christians.” He’d never had much time for religion himself, always felt too much church made you a little weird. John’s words confirmed his suspicions! “You don’t need to worry about me, John,” the Richest Man in the Valley said impatiently and cheerfully, turning on his
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