“Momma, look! What’s this one?”
“You have found a treasure! This one not only has a special name; it tells a special story. It’s called Jack-in-the-Pulpit.”
Lucy grinned as her curious boy looked up at her, wide eyed with wonder.
“Looks like the perfect spot for our picnic, Jack. I’ll share the story while we eat.”
While Jack nibbled his lunch to nourish his body, Lucy fed his soul with her words.
“See the leaves, Jack? There are three on one stem. Like God: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”
“I see, Momma!”
“The flower is the pulpit, with a canopy. That’s where Jack stands to tell about his good God.” Jack giggled at his momma talking about Jack in the flower.
“The canopy covers him with God’s protection. Because he is a child of God, nothing can touch him unless God allows.” Jack reached and gently stroked the velvety smooth canopy with his fingertip.
“Jack is covered with tiny flowers - girls and boys that bloom when they listen to his teaching. He has a very important job.”
“Like you, Momma. You teach me.”
Lucy ruffled Jack’s hair and winked. Jack winked back with both eyes.
“Then,” continued Lucy, “late in the summer, Jack makes fruit. The fruit turns a bright shiny red, like Jesus’ blood that was spilled on the cross when He died.”
“That’s so sad, Momma. Can we come back to see the berries when it’s time?”
“Yes, Jackie boy, let’s do that.” Jack stretched out on his tummy, elbows on the ground, chin propped in hands, knees bent, feet crossed in the air, eyes fixed on Jack the flower.
“After a while, the berries go dormant. Just when we think they’ve died, the berries open, like the tomb when Jesus came alive!” Jack hopped up onto his knees and clapped his hands.
“Some little white seeds fall out. White like our sin is washed, when we follow God’s truth. When the seeds land on the fertile ground, they germinate the next spring. Another plant grows and in three years or so, it’s large enough to flower.”
“Momma, germs are bad.”
“Germinate, Jack, not germs,” Lucy chuckled. “That’s when the seed starts to sprout into a plant.”
“Yes, it is. This shows us that we need to choose things that help us grow. Then when we blossom, others can see God’s goodness in us!”
“Momma, someday I’ll be a Jack-at-the-Pulpit.”
“That will be nice, Jack. You just follow what God has planned for you, and you’ll grow where ever you’re planted.”
“Marci, wait! Let’s go in here. Jack’s Treasure Chest. This looks like a nice shop.”
“Right behind ya, Lora.”
“I think we’re in the right place at the right time!” Lora’s eyes sparkled as she looked at the glistening glassware on the shelves inside the little store.
“Good afternoon, ladies. Welcome to Jack’s Treasure Chest. What can I help you find today?”
“Oh, it’s all so beautiful! I need a special gift for my Mom-in-law. Where do I begin?”
“My expertise is vases…Jack-in-the-Pulpit. I was just about to blow one. Would you like to watch?”
“That would be great!” the ladies replied in unison.
“How did you ever get started doing this?” Marci asked after a few moments of observing Jack’s intricate work.
Jack smiled as he recalled, “Well, one day, many years ago, my mom and I went for a walk, treasure hunting, and she told me a story…”
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