My four-year-old son, Shane, had been asking for a puppy for over a month, but his Daddy kept saying, "No dogs! A dog will dig up the garden and chase the ducks and kill our rabbits. No dog, and that's final!"
     Each night, Shane prayed for a puppy, and each morning he was disappointed when there was no puppy waiting outside.
     I was peeling potatoes for dinner, and he was sitting on the floor at my feet asking for the thousandth time, "Why won't Daddy let me have a puppy?"
     "Because they are a lot of trouble. Don't cry. Maybe Daddy will change his mind someday," I encouraged him. "No, he won't, and I'll never have a puppy in a million years," Shane wailed. I looked into his dirty, tear-streaked face. How could we deny him his one wish?
     So I said the words that were first spoken by Eve, "I know a way to make Daddy change his mind." "Really?" Shane wiped away his tears and sniffed. I handed him a potato. "Take this and carry it with you until it turns into a puppy," I whispered. "Never let it out of your sight for one minute. Keep it with you all the time, and on the third day, tie a string around it and drag it around the yard and see what happens!"
     Shane grabbed the potato with both hands. "Mama, how do you make a potato into a puppy?" He turned it over and over in his little hands.
     "Shh! It's a secret!" I whispered and sent him on his way.
     "Lord, you know what a woman must do to keep peace in her home!" I prayed.
     Shane faithfully carried his potato around for two days, he slept with it, bathed with it and talked to it.
     On the third day, I said to my husband, "We really should get a pet for Shane." "What makes you think he needs a pet?" my husband leaned against the doorway.
     "Well, he's been carrying a potato around with him for days. He calls it "Wally" and says it is his pet. He sleeps with it on his pillow and right now he has a string tied to it and he's dragging it around the yard," I said.
     "A potato?" my husband asked and looked out the window and watched Shane taking his potato for a walk.
     "It will break his heart when the potato gets mushy and rots," I said and started getting out food for lunch, "Besides, every time I try to peel potatoes for dinner, Shane cries because he says I'm killing Wally's family."
     "A potato?" my husband asked, "My son has a pet potato?"
     "Well," I said shrugging, "you said he couldn't have a puppy. He was so disappointed, in his mind, he decided he had to have a pet..."
     "That's crazy!" my husband said.
     "Maybe you're right, but explain to me why he is dragging that potato around the yard on a string," I said.
     My husband watched our son for a few more minutes.
     "I'll bring home a puppy tonight, I'll stop by the animal shelter after work. I guess a puppy can't be that much trouble," he sighed, "It's better than a potato."
     That night, Shane's Daddy brought home a wiggling puppy and a pregnant white cat that he took pity on while he was at the shelter.
     Everyone was happy. My husband thought he'd saved his son from a nervous breakdown. Shane had a puppy, a cat and five kittens and believed his Mother had magic powers that could change a potato into a puppy. And I was happy because I got my potato back and cooked it for dinner.
     Everything was perfect, until one evening when I was cooking dinner, Shane tugged on my dress and asked, "Mama, do you think I could have a pony for my birthday?"