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First Page True Stories

Truth really can be stranger than fiction.

First Page - Now launched! All the stories are true, or based on real events. Unlimited reading for $4.99 / month. No downloads. Read on your phone, tablet or computer.

La verdad puede ser más extraña que la ficción.

First Page - ¡Ya está en marcha! Todas las historias son verídicas, o están basadas en hechos reales. Lectura ilimitada por $4.99 / mes. No hay que descargar nada. Lea en su teléfono, tableta u ordenador.

Manna Minutes Christian Podcast

Manna Minutes Podcast: Eye-opening Bible study in less than five minutes! Access all episodes here.

Podcast cristiano Manna Minutes

El podcast Manna Minutes: ¡Estudio bíblico que nos hace abrir los ojos en menos de cinco minutos! Acceda a todos los episodios aquí.

Manna Minutes Christian Podcast

Manna Minutes Podcast Auf Deutsch: Augenöffnendes Bibelstudium in weniger als fünf Minuten! Alle Episoden finden Sie hier.

Is The Covid-19 Vaccine Mandate Of God? Or Is It Evil?

Did you know the Word of God (the Christian Bible) speaks directly against what governments are doing with Covid-19 vaccine mandates? Get the facts here

¿Viene de Dios el mandato de vacuna contra el Covid-19? O ¿acaso es malo?

¿Sabía que la Palabra de Dios (la Biblia cristiana) condena de manera directa lo que los gobiernos están haciendo a través de los mandatos de vacuna contra el Covid-19? Obtenga los hechos aquí.


The Third Man by Angela Sheffield

Was There A Curse On Helen's Romantic Life?

The Third Man by Angela Sheffield is based on a true story. Read chapter one now!

Should A Christian Practice Yoga Or Pilates? The Shocking Truth

Perhaps you practice yoga for health reasons, or to reduce stress. But, do you really know the diabolical goal of any form or style of yoga, including pilates? Get your answers here

La verdad espeluznante sobre el yoga revelada por la Biblia cristiana

Quizás practiques yoga por motivos de salud o para reducir el estrés. Pero, ¿realmente conoces el objetivo diabólico de cualquier forma o estilo de yoga, incluido el pilates? Obten tus respuestas aquí.

Communicating With The Dead: Learn The Shocking Truth

The spirit you think is mom, dad, or some other loved one from beyond the grave is NOT your loved one. But, what about the "proof" that the living can indeed talk to the dead? Let God's Word open your eyes to a deception that is pure evil. Read Spirits Of The Deceased

Comunicarse con los muertos: La impactante verdad

El espíritu que parece ser tu madre, padre o algún otro ser querido tuyo desde el más allá NO es tu ser querido. Pero, ¿qué hay de "la prueba" de que los vivos pueden comunicarse con los muertos? Permite que la Palabra de Dios te abra los ojos para que veas el engaño que es de la maldad pura. Te invitamos a leer ¿Están los muertos entre los vivos?

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Capital Punishment Is Sanctioned By The Bible

Christians and believers in the Bible, the Word of God calls for the death penalty for first degree murder, rape, and other acts of violence. The Bible tells us to behold the goodness AND the severity of God whose Word--including in the New Testament--does NOT speak against capital punishment Read the scriptural proof now.

La Biblia sanciona la pena capital

Cristianos y creyentes en la Biblia, la Palabra de Dios pide la pena de muerte para el asesinato en primer grado, la violación y otros actos de violencia. La Biblia nos dice que contemplemos la bondad Y la severidad de Dios, cuya Palabra -incluso en el Nuevo Testamento- NO habla en contra de la pena capital. Lea ahora la prueba bíblica.

traducciones inglés español

Teofila Gottfried book

¿Qué tiene que ver conmigo? por Teófila Gottfried

Lo que leemos en la Biblia tiene que ver con todos los seres humanos, sean cristianos o judíos, ateos o agnósticos, budistas, musulmanes o adherentes a alguna de las filosofías o nuevas religiones que surgen en el mundo. ¿Por qué? Ver mayor información sobre este interesante libro.

The Third Man by Angela Sheffield


Was there a curse on Helen's romantic life? Or was it just plain bad luck?
After one marriage filled with verbal, emotional, and physical abuse, Helen found herself divorced. And then wonderful Maurice came along and slipped an engagement ring on her finger. That anticipated marriage was interrupted when Maurice's ex-lover resurfaced and the ring came off Helen's finger. Through all of the heartbreak, Gracie, her long-time, faithful friend had stood by her. But was Gracie a true friend? Or was she more loyal to her sister Ethel, who was Helen's arch enemy?
The truth would be revealed when James came into Helen's life. The day he was introduced to Gracie is the day that everything changed. It looked as though this relationship was also about to crumble when James, the third man in Helen's life, hears of Helen's past as a prostitute. Could it be true? Or is it just one more thing on that unseen stage of life that has cast Helen into a role where she must fight for her happiness.

Main Characters of The Third Man:

James: James came from a wealthy family in the south. He felt he had to be especially cautious while looking for a wife to be sure he didn't land a gold-digger.

Lester: Lester had been James' best friend since kindergarten but harbored a secret jealousy against him. When he and James met Helen, Lester felt that "all is fair in love and war."

Gracie: Gracie truly cares for her friend, Helen. But forced to choose to whom she should be loyal, her heart said Helen, however, her mother's words: blood is thicker than water meant choosing her sister, Ethel over Helen.

Helen: Helen and Gracie had been friends since teenagers. Gracie had remained loyal to Helen through their adult lives until Ethel, Helen's arch enemy finally got her wish; the dissolution of Gracie and Helen's friendship.

The Third Man by Angela Sheffield - Chapter One

January, 1970

“Ma-aa-aa, I’m hungry!” Six-year-old Isaiah wailed grabbing his stomach and throwing his head back with a face full of frowns. His mother, twenty-five-year old Helen Taylor stared at her son’s dark brown, contorted face. Isaiah was known to express his likes, and dislikes in no uncertain terms.
“I know, Isaiah. We all hungry,” she answered. Helen then turned to look at her eight-year-old Daniel who never complained. Daniel, with his light brown skin, and wavy, black hair, looked nothing like his brother. Once again, the groceries hadn’t lasted 'til the end of the week. Furthermore, there was no coal to make a fire in the furnace. Helen tilted her head to one side letting her black, neck-length hair fall to one side as she stared down into Isaiah's face. Having just come in from work and her sons meeting her at the door, they all remained in the cold living room until Helen said, “Let’s go in the kitchen and see what we can find, okay?” She knew there wasn’t much, but she had to try to put together something for her kids' supper. She couldn’t just let her sons go to bed hungry. She had done that plenty of times as a child herself.

As they entered the kitchen, Helen let the blanket fall that hung at the doorway between the kitchen and living room. It would keep all the heat from the oven in the kitchen so they could be warm. The stove that cooked their food was also the only means of heat when there was no coal. They each slipped out of their coats and hung them on the backs of their chairs.
“Let’s see,” Helen said searching the cabinet shelves. Flour, baking powder, dry milk, and a bag of corn meal. “I know! I’ll make some dumplins’. That’s what my mother did when we didn’t have any food.” She tried to sound upbeat.
“What’s dunkin’?” Isaiah wanted to know looking questioningly at his mother.
“You know those long white things we had at grandma’s,” Daniel answered his brother. He touched the tips of his index fingers and spread them apart demonstrating the length of the dumplings his grandmother had made.

“They’ll taste good. You’ll see,” Helen cajoled. She blended the butter along with a little lard into the flour until it looked like her mother’s. She then added baking powder, salt, powdered milk and a little water. Helen rolled it out on a piece of waxed paper and cut the dough into strips. On the stove was a pot of boiling water. She dropped the strips into the pot, and waited at the table with her boys asking them about their day at school. The warmth of the oven’s heat felt good compared to the chill of the living room and bedroom. After a few minutes, Helen got up, lifted the pot top, and checked the pot's content. Big, white, swollen pieces of dough were swirling around with white foam on top of the water.
Isaiah looked around at his mother. “Is it ready?” he asked elbows propped on the table and  legs swinging.
Helen, holding the top in the air, looked around at the boys.
“What’s wrong, mama?” Daniel asked.
“Nothing! Nothing.” She turned the stove off and scooped up the dumplings into a bowl, which she sat in front of Daniel. Isaiah, not waiting for his, stopped swinging his legs, and leaned to peer into his brother’s bowl.
“Uhh-h, what’s that?” he moaned. Even mild mannered Daniel raised his eyebrows and cut his eyes at his mother. Helen, ignoring Isaiah, sat a bowl in front of him and one for herself. She then sat down.

“Daniel, you want to say the blessing?”
“Thank you Jesus for our food. Amen.” Each waited for the other to be the first to dig in.

“Tomorrow when I get paid,” Helen said as she tried to cut into the thick dough with her spoon. “I’ll take you guys out for hamburgers. Okay?”
“Grandma’s dumplins’ didn’t look like this,” Daniel said shaking his head.
“You guys don’t have to eat it,” Helen said as she sighed and dropped the spoon into her bowl with a clang. “I’ll try to make some biscuits.” Her eyes watered as she rose, frustrated, from the table.

Isaiah, out of sheer hunger, bit into the white mass of dough. It was raw inside. “Uhh-hh.” He spit it back into his bowl and dropped his spoon. “I don’t want it. It taste nasty,” he said as he climbed down from the table, grabbed his coat and headed for the living room.
Helen stood motionless at the sink, her eyes brimming tears. Daniel went to his mother and gave her a hug. “I’ll try to make biscuits,” she said softly dabbing her eyes on her sleeve. The loud knock at the door startled Helen.
“Should I get it?” Isaiah yelled from the living room while heading for the door.
“Ask who is it first!” Helen called back as she made her way to the living room, Daniel at her heels.
Gracie Austin, Helen’s best friend was already in and moving her petite frame towards the kitchen just as Daniel and Helen emerged through the blanketed doorway.
“Girl, my husband got his income tax check!” Gracie blurted out with a big grin. She reached into her purse and pulled out a fistful of bills. “It was twenty-two-hundred dollars and Willie split it with me. I told ya’ I was comin’ back if I got some money,” she said with an affirming bob of her head. “C’mon, lets go eat!” Gracie was fully aware that each week before Helen got paid, she always ran out of food. Her two daughters, seven-year-old Lydia and five-year-old Ruth were waiting outside in a cab. Isaiah and Daniel jumped up and down clapping their hands and shouting, “alright!” They gave each other a high five. Daniel ran to the kitchen, put on his coat, and brought his mother’s coat to her.

They all climbed into the taxi and went to an ‘all you can eat’ restaurant. There was so much food they didn’t know where to begin: Fried chicken, barbecued chicken, broiled chicken, fried fish, baked fish, roast beef and ham. There was corn, sweet peas, green beans, mashed potatoes, and gravy. There were a variety of desserts: Ice Cream, strawberry short cake, and chocolate cake. There was pumpkin pie, lemon meringue pie and banana pudding.

Gracie and Helen seated the kids all in a booth to themselves while the two women sat talking in seats across the aisle from them. When the meal was over, and before they left, Gracie reached into her purse, brought several bills to her lap, and counted out two-hundred-dollars. She loosely folded them and slid her fist containing the money across the table to Helen, who took it to her lap to count.  She looked across the table at Gracie, and her eyes filled with tears.
“Thank you,” she whispered, choked up.
Gracie, restraining her own tears, leaned affectionately across the table, squeezed Helen’s hand, smiled and whispered back, “You my friend.” They left the restaurant and walked the five blocks to a used car dealership.

“Good afternoon ladies,” came a deep voice from behind as Gracie and Helen circled a nineteen-sixty-one, dark blue, four-door Ford Galaxy. Both women turned to face a well-dressed salesman with a broad grin. “We got this one in last week and it's been completely gone through. Would you like to go for a spin?” The tall, blond salesman dangled a set of keys in the air.

The two women looked at one another. Gracie turned to face the salesman, and with a shrug of her shoulders, answered, “why not?”

The salesman opened the front passenger door and said, “hop in. By the way, I'm Brad,” he announced as he extended a hand to Gracie. When Brad turned to shake Helen's hand, she had already climbed into the backseat.

Helen had bought two used cars on her own, both of which turned out to be lemons. In the process, she had learned a thing or two about what to consider. First of all, know that used car salesmen see a forehead with the word “sucker” looming when a woman shops for a car unaccompanied by a man. Her first car, bought during the winter season, had gotten her home alright, however, the next morning it wouldn't start. Not only was she late for work, she was back on the bus with no idea of what was wrong with her newly purchased, ten-year old automobile. It turned out to be the battery which she replaced; after that, a multitude of parts needed replacing, and with parts replacements came labor costs until she finally junked the car and didn't even break even; not to mention, she was back riding the bus.

Helen listened from the back seat as Brad chatted away with Gracie about the car being a great buy.

Yeah, Helen thought, but will her friend, who knew nothing about purchasing a car, get a raw deal? Helen thought about the second car that absolutely wouldn't run if it rained. She learned later that the distributor cap was cracked. But even after having it replaced, the heap of metal still wouldn't run.

When they arrived back at the dealership, Helen, not wanting to take over, excused herself and pulled Gracie off to the side.

“Listen, you'd better have enough money left over to get a new battery or you won't be going anywhere after you drive off this lot. And another thing, ask Brad if they'll pull the distributor cap, hold it up to the light, and see if you see any cracks because if you do, you won't be going anywhere on rainy days.”

Gracie listened with interest. “Wow, I didn't know you knew so much about cars. Will you ask him for me?”

“Sure, I will.”

They re-joined Brad standing off to the sideline.

“Well, what do you think, Helen?” Brad asked as he shifted his eyes back and forth from Helen to Gracie. He wasn't sure what the sideline chat had been about, but he got the sense that Helen wasn't so trusting, and further, that she had won Gracie over to her way of suspicious thinking.

“What do we think...?” Helen responded as she began counting down on her fingers. “First of all, give us a price. The car is nine years old and I don't know what you mean when you say it's been completely gone through. Does that mean you just checked and left everything as is, or does that mean you found problems and you fixed them or what? Helen's right hand index finger moved to touch the middle finger of her left hand as she continued her countdown. Secondly, my friend has only X number of dollars to spend on a car. So, if that X number of dollars,” she tossed her head to one side and paused, “won't get her a car that will go,” she continued, “then we'll pass and we're outa' here.” She then fell silent, fixed her eyes on Brad's face as she placed a hand on her dropped hip, and waited for his answer. Gracie stood silently by, mouth hanging open, watching the two of them.

Brad was somewhat taken aback by Helen's demeanor.

What is eating at her? he thought.

“Well, Helen. I'll be honest with you...”

“Yeah, please do,” Helen interrupted with a determined look.

“As you said, the car is nine years old. We don't put a lot of time and energy into a car that old. But we want you to be happy and become a repeat customer. You can have the car for five-hundred dollars.” He then added, “as is.”

Helen looked at Gracie before responding. “As is doesn't work for us. Throw in a new battery and pull the distributor cap so I can take a look at it, and you've got a deal.” Helen figured even if the distributor cap was cracked, it wasn't a big deal for Gracie to spend a few extra bucks to replace it.

Brad contemplated the offer for a few seconds. Does this woman think it makes her look smart or something because she knows what a distributor cap and a battery is? He thought. He pursed his lips, then said, “You've got a deal.” Gracie signed the papers and the women left feeling they had made a good choice.

The first stop was at the Crystal Coal Company. Helen ordered a ton of coal to be delivered the next day. They went to the grocery store where she filled two grocery carts. Gracie took Helen and her sons home. She left them, satisfied that her friend, Helen, and her sons would be warm and well fed.


It was Saturday morning; more than two weeks had passed since Helen had seen Gracie. She picked up the phone and dialed her friend’s number. There was no answer. Gracie had talked of visiting her sister, Ethel who lived in Los Angeles, California. “Umm-mm. Wonder if she’s back? I wonder if she even went?” Helen pondered aloud. She assumed that when she didn’t hear from Gracie, surely her friend had made the trip. Helen did laundry, dishes, and took the trash out. But she couldn’t get Gracie off her mind. Once again she picked up the phone and dialed her friend’s number. There still was no answer.  “Daniel. Isaiah. I have to run out for a few minutes, okay?”
“Where you goin’ ma’?” Daniel asked.
“Can we go?” Isaiah wanted to know.
“I don’t think so honey. It won’t take me long, and we’ll have ice cream when I get back. Okay?” Helen bent to kiss Isaiah. I’ll be right back as soon as I can,” she said straightening herself and stroking his head. “Daniel, take care of things and don’t let nobody in, okay?”
“Okay, mama.”

Helen knocked at Gracie’s door. There was no answer. Becoming increasingly worried, Helen banged on the door several times. Unable to get in, she ran the half-block to Gracie’s landlady. Hattie Connors answered the door and Helen shouted, “There’s somethin’ wrong at Gracie’s! I been callin’ and I finally came over, and I been knockin’ but she won’t answer. Can you come and let me in?”
Hattie, a short, middle-aged plump woman with mixed gray hair, grabbed her coat and slipped into her boots sitting beside the front door. “You know her husband left her, don’t you?” Hattie said as they left the house.
“No-oo.” They walked swiftly to Gracie’s.
“I wondered how she was holdin’ up,” Hattie remarked as she unlocked the door. “Willie had his woman with him when he came to get his things.” The smell of gas hit them as soon as the door was opened. Hattie pulled her jacket tail up over her nose and turned the gas stove off while Helen ran downstairs yelling for help to the first floor tenant. She had heard or read somewhere that one shouldn’t use the phone in the presence of gas.
“Call the police. Call an ambulance!” She banged on the door at the foot of the stairs. The door opened. A man stood in the doorway in his pajamas rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It was two o’clock in the afternoon. Without waiting, Helen rushed past him, picked up the phone and dialed 0. “I need an ambulance at four-o-seven Mitchell Street. My friend tried to commit suicide!” Hattie found Gracie’s girls, Lydia and Ruth outside huddled together on the balcony. “What do we do about the kids?” Hattie asked, the girls clinging at her sides, staring wide-eyed at their mother’s still body. Gracie had curled herself in a corner between the stove and the chimney wall where she waited for death before losing consciousness.
“Can you take them to your sister’s so nobody will know they were here with the gas on?” Helen asked looking out the window anxiously for the ambulance.
“Yeah. But you think that’s a good idea? What if Gracie does this again?”
“We need time to figure out what to do. If the Welfare people take her kids they’ll put them in foster care, and who knows what she’ll have to go through to get them back,” Helen explained waving an arm impatiently towards the door. “At least this way we can have time to get ‘em to her mother’s.”
“I guess you right,” Hattie said hesitantly as she turned to take the girls out the back. They traveled through the alley to Hattie’s car. She drove Lydia and Ruth to her sister’s and returned to face the paramedics with Helen.

Gracie woke in St. Luke’s Hospital Sunday morning with Helen sitting at her bedside. “Where my kids?” Gracie asked hurriedly sitting up in bed.
“Shh-hh-h.” Helen looked around before answering. She leaned in towards Gracie. “ The kids are with your mom. Hattie’s sister took them over there. We had to get ‘em outa’ the house so they wouldn’t take them away from you,” Helen whispered.

“Thank you, Helen.” Gracie lowered her head. Her voice broke as she said, “you know Willie left me don’t you?”

“I just found out yesterday,” Helen replied, still leaning sympathetically towards Gracie. She paused a moment. Then said firmly as she sat up straight, staring into space. “You’ll get over it.”  

“I don’t see how,” Gracie said, shaking her lowered head and letting a tear fall. “I just don’t see how I’m gonna’ live without him.” She broke and began to sob. Helen turned to face Gracie. “Remember when Daniel’s daddy left me?”

Whimpering, Gracie bobbed her head as her eyes met Helen’s. She remembered it well. She was there that day...


It was Sunday morning, more than eight years ago, that Jesse stormed into the two-bedroom, second-floor apartment he shared with his wife Helen. Gracie was there to pick Helen up for church.

Jesse was, by most people's opinion, a selfish person who always had to have things his way. Helen came to share that opinion about her husband after the marriage. Even after discovering this about him, Helen decided to make the best of the marriage because Jesse had other traits for which she was grateful. And, after all, nobody's perfect. He was a hard worker who rarely missed work, even when sick. He wasn't a skirt-chaser, and he was good-looking. But that Sunday morning when he stormed into their home and insulted her friend, Helen saw a side of Jesse that she had never seen before.

“Gracie, I need to talk to my wife alone.” Gracie remembered that cold stare Jesse gave her as he made his announcement. She turned on a heel to leave. Helen walked her to the door.

“I’ll see you at service tonight. Thanks for comin’ by,” Helen said as she closed the door.
When Helen returned to the living room her husband was nowhere to be found. She went to the bedroom and found Jesse tossing clothes into a suitcase.
“What you doin’ Jesse?” Helen asked growing anxious. She couldn’t believe her eyes. What had she done to deserve this? She looked around at the spotless room that showed off her flair for decorating.  The white post bed with it’s matching dresser, nightstand and chest of drawers had all been bargains bought at the Goodwill store. They were dirty and marred when she got them home. But Helen had stripped, sanded and painted each piece until they looked new. She made the white bed-skirt, ruby red crushed velvet coverlet, and the matching curtains. She had bought a large white circular area rug and placed it on the oak wood floor. The headboard of the bed rested against the only papered wall in the room. She had asked for and received permission from the landlord to add her own personal touches to the apartment. Helen had chosen a flocked, floral design; the big ruby red flowers with their dark green stems graced a faint gray background.

She had prepared Sunday dinner consisting of collard greens, corn on the cob, fried chicken and cornbread. Helen had even considered baking a sweet potato pie but knowing she had trouble with making pastry she opted to bake a cake-mix cake instead.
“You mo’ married to that church of yours than to me,” Jesse snapped as he continued to pack.
“Jesse, this ain’t ‘bout me goin’ to church. You think I don’t know you been sneakin’ ‘round with your ex-girlfriend? If you want her, why didn’t you marry her instead of me?
Jesse stopped packing and looked angrily into Helen’s eyes. “You used to be fun. Now since you joined the church, you there on Tuesday night...” He started counting down on his fingers. “Friday night and two or three services on Sunday." And then, as if he just couldn’t let it go, he turned and said, “We used to spend time together.” Jesse waved his arms in the air and mumbled,  “Ah, it’s no use talkin’ no mo’.
“But Jesse,” Helen argued. “How many times I asked you to come with me
“That’s ‘cause I don’t wanna’ come. I want things back how they was befo’ you got all holy!”
“What you want me to do Jesse, leave the church? You won’t go with me even once. Maybe you would like...”
“Woman, I told you over and over again how my daddy made me go to church all the time! How I couldn’t never have no fun ‘cause to him, bein’ the pastor and all, everything was a sin.” Jesse snapped the suitcase shut and went to the bathroom to gather his toiletries. Helen stood there in the bedroom, tears brimming waiting for him to return.
“Jesse, if you want to leave I can’t stop you, and I won’t beg you to stay. But if you go, you give me biblical grounds for divorce, and I will file.”
“See, there you go again. Everything is ‘bout the Bible. You ain’t the same woman I married.” With those words, Jesse grabbed up his suitcase and stormed out.


Gracie was discharged from St. Luke’s on Monday afternoon with a three-day supply of Valium, and an appointment to see a therapist on Wednesday of the same week. A decision would be made then as to whether Gracie would be committed as an in-patient or continue seeing a therapist on a weekly out-patient basis. Helen called her friend every day. Their chats were brief, but at the end of each conversation, Helen thought with a smile, my friend is sounding more and more like her old self. She hoped Gracie would be able to keep her freedom. She would help her friend as much as she could and for as long as Gracie needed her.

Copyright © 2016 by HeavenlyManna.net (Heavenly Manna Ministries). All rights reserved

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The Third Man by Angela Sheffield Based on true events, The Third Man by Angela Sheffield, brings the Bible up close and personal as the characters face real issues of life: Betrayal, deceit, romance, bitterness, anger against God, hopelessness, will power, perplexity, triumph, unforgiveness, mental illness, and the "Alcohol made me do it" excuse. Read chapter one FREE now.

Copyright notice: This website and its content is copyright of © Heavenly Manna (HeavenlyManna.net) 2002-2016.


I enjoyed reading "The Third Man". It was a quick read that kept my attention. I found myself wondering what was going to happen next, so I was anxious for the next chapter. The characters were interesting and the story moved along nicely. The book was a window into the life of a financially struggling but hard working single mom. I found myself cheering Helen on and hoping for a happy ending for her.
by: Mary Nelson
Posted on 2019-11-18 19:09:20

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