A Little Knowledge is a Dangerous Thing, But Sometimes, It's Just Funny
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We were moving again! I had accepted a job at the Cherokee Children's Mission in Oklahoma. I would be teaching a class of 7-9 year-olds, supervising kitchen staff, and filling in wherever they needed me during summer camp. We would live on the mission grounds in our own trailer.
I enjoyed teaching and taught my own children the Bible on a regular basis. I know it sounds unbelievable but they used to beg me to get to study the Bible stories with me. I would open up the sofa bed in the family room and each would get a turn to pile into the bed with Mommy and her books and stay up late to “study” with me. They would get all warm and cozy and listen to me tell them the stories about Noah and David and all the heroes of the Bible. Sometimes they didn’t stay awake for very long; it was just too cozy.
Four of my six children were still at home and were going to the mission with me. Being a normal concerned Mom, I wondered what kind of an impression they would make at the mission.
Melody, my nine year-old, was learning a song in Sunday school. The song included the books of the New Testament. She was so proud of what she had accomplished so far.
"Mom,” she said, “I've learned them all the way up to the book of Jack!"
A few days later, my son Steve, came home from school with the announcement that the Gideon’s had handed out small New Testaments at the school.
"It was really something, Mom. During lunch the kids sat around the cafeteria reading the book of Revolutions."
(Oh well…two down, two to go.)
Later that week, as we all were busy packing, David, my 7 year old, asked what he could do to help. I brought out the big box of Christmas decorations and told him to go through them. It was his job to pick out anything that was broken so we could re-box the rest.
After a few minutes I noticed him holding the small Nativity with a puzzled look on his face. I will never forget what he said!
"Look Mom, it's baby Jesus, Mary, and…what's this guy's name…Larry?"
Angela, my eleven year-old, decided not to volunteer anything. It was probably for the best!
They are all grown now, but how sweet these memories are! (I do have to admit that while some may get very “reverent” when they see a Nativity scene…I have a tendency to laugh. I think God understands!)
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