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O ther seed fell among thorns,” Jesus continued, his voice tenuous, “which grew up and choked the plants.” Whatever it was bothering Jesus bothered him still.She is my mother. I love her. They are my sisters, Rhoda, Milcah, Sarah. I love them. Oh my Father, comfort them because . . . I can’t.“The rest of the seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop — thirty, sixty or a hundred times what was sown. He who has ears, let him hear.” His final sentence was muttered, as if he didn’t care if they heard him or not.
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