"Grandma, are you so hungry that you've gone mad?" The young man thought, how could it rain food from the sky? Clearly, not even a raindrop was willing to fall.
However, in the next second, his eyes widened because, starting from above the altar, it seemed as if the sky had a hole, and more and more white grains of rice were falling, landing on his head, clothes, the ground, and even into the cracks of the parched earth.
"Food! Falling from the sky..." He was excited and wanted to shout but suddenly thought of something. He hurriedly took off his clothes to sweep up the rice from the ground and stuff it inside. "Grandma, stop praying and quickly grab the food! If others find out, we'll be at a big loss. This is all thanks to your prayers!"
The old Priest coldly watched her grandson and reminded, "The mercy of the gods is not to be hoarded. In the face of disaster, even if others starve to death, how will your stored food help you endure the long years of hunger?"
