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Book by Ken Yoder Reed

Holy Land Prize

By Ken Yoder Reed

A group of American tourists visit the Holy Land and compete with each other to win the big prize—a free trip. The challenge-- tell the best story!

Who’s Who on the Trip. A sampling of the Tour members, who each tell their stories to win that big prize to be awarded on our last night.

Pastor Vladdy. That’s me. Your host of For Zion’s Sake, a daily one-hour radio show that brings you God’s News behind the news. Prophecy is being fulfilled on the streets of the Holy Land right now! Jesus is coming soon! God’s chosen people, the Jews, play the lead role! I’m just an ex-hippie who loves the Messiah and his people, the Jews.

Major Eli Bloom. You won’t believe this guy—he’s Israel’s top counter-terrorist. He’s a Jew-Jew, I mean he practices, wears his yarmulke, eats kosher, celebrates the festivals. And conceal carries. I admire this guy so much. I just can’t believe I landed him as my tour guide.

The Babe, RosaSharon. I don’t remember names, most of the time. So fifteen tours ago I took to attaching nicknames to people. If you met her, you’d know why The Babe fits. If I say tan hot-pants and a pomegranate colored blouse that gaps open inappropriately, does that help?

Saba Alemu or Mother Mary, as I call her because she fled for her life with her babe, like Mary the Holy Mother. Saba’s Ethiopian. The Ethiopians pronounce Saba when they refer to Sheba, like the Queen of Sheba, she says.

Beatrice, the Librarian. I considered her a wallflower until we came out of Yad Vashem and she revealed she’d spent three years in Holland, working at the Corrie ten Boom Museum and she’d published a book on Corrie. If any story says ‘Christians standing up for Jews’, it’s this one.

Priscilla, aka Snoopy Cap. You’ll wonder, like I did, why a middle-aged white woman would wear a Snoopy Cap with ear flaps, which she lowers like storm windows when a draft comes down the gallery of a cathedral we’re visiting.

Jacob Krakow. Damn straight he’s not a Tour member. You wouldn’t catch him associating with the Christian Zionists because they prop up Occupied Palestine, he says. Yet I can’t ignore Jacob. He’s my son. It grieves me we haven’t talked for three years. Then I receive this text the third day of our tour. He’s in Occupied Palestine, he says, for three weeks. Do I want to meet up for coffee?

Ken Yoder Reed

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