Sam: Mister Frodo!!!!!
Primrose: Not a problem, Papa! *With much speed, whips several arrows one at a time out of her quiver and very soon the hill troll looks like a pincushion. It stands a moment, still holding Frodo, then both fall to the ground.
Sam: *Running forward after he's sure his daughter has stopped shooting* Mister Frodo! Please tell me you're all right! Please, Mister Frodo!
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Giving thanks unto the Father...In whom we have redemption through His blood, even the forgiveness of sins.~Colossians1:12a,14
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I am Samwise son of Hamfast, if by hoe or trowel I can get these weeds out of your garden, I will.You have my shears!;)
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