One hot summer day in 1980, I arrived home from work to find my daughter, Krista, had received a very severe sunburn while at play that afternoon.  Krista was only six years old and weeping from the pain. I recalled what I had been taught about cooling a sunburn.  I called her to the bathroom and explained that we were going to lay her in the tub in warm water.  We would then drain a little and put in some cold.  Drain a little more and again, put in some cold water.  This would continue until the pain was drawn out by the cool water.  I told that it would probably take a couple of hours for a burn like that to cool down. To encourage her, I explained that I had a burn just like that when I was about ten years old.  Mine resulted in many blisters from head to toe, except where I was covered by my swimming trunks.  I empathized with her and told her that I knew how bad it hurt and that I knew her pain.  After she was in the water for about ten minutes, I saw tears run from her eyes and down her cheeks.  She cried out saying, "It hurts, Daddy!" Then I started thinking a little differently.  Thinking I could teach her a Biblical lesson here, I asked this little six year old if she remembered who the Great Physician is. She told me that it was Jesus. I said, "Krista, just go to Him.  He took thirty-nine stripes across back so you could have your healing today."  I explained 1 Peter 2:24 which says, "...by His stripes ye were healed."  Not that we might be or will be.  This says that we were healed two thousand years ago by the stripes of Jesus Christ. I watched as the child's eyes closed.  Her tears were still falling. After a few moments she opened her pretty, baby blue eyes.  As her tears stopped, she told me that she was ready to get out of the water. Then the devil tried to steal a wonderful thing here.  He tried to lie to me making me think that she was still needing to stay in the water.  Then like she's a rump roast or something, I told her, "Kris, you're not done yet.  You need to stay there a lot longer." This little child who had enough faith to believe what I had told her only moments before, knew that I had told her the truth and that Christ could and DID heal her.  Then she proceeded to teach me a lesson in faith. She raised herself up and as she slapped her ever-so-red shoulders she said boldly, "But it don't hurt anymore.  Can I get out now?" Since I, the teacher, was so aptly admonished by a six year old, concerning faith, what could I say?  What could I do?  There was only one thing to do.  I helped her out of the tub and thanked her for the very pertinent lesson.