Testimonies

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Something Different, Something Great
By Dan Blankenship



It was the fourth grade, at least best as I can recall, that I first remember Shelley being different than the rest of my classmates. She dressed a little nicer than the other girls, but that wasn’t what really set her apart from the crowd. No, what was different about Shelley was the way she acted. She was just outright strange as far as I was concerned.

Well, let me start off right at the beginning. Most of the kids I knew, since the time I was old enough to remember knowing anyone, liked to make fun of one another and talk gossip about people not in the room. That’s just the way I thought things were, and my days in grade school had done nothing to alter that understanding; life moved fast and furious, and in order to be cool, you had to be the first with a quip or a barb. And if your tongue wasn’t quick as those you were around, you had to know some good gossip to make up for your first failure at being cool.

I wasn’t the best teaser, practical joker, and jabber-jaw in Protsman Elementary School, but I could hold my own on most days. But as the school year progressed, I kept noticing that Shelley, with her long straight brown hair, never participated in the teasing, ridiculing, or verbal tug of wars that often raged in the classroom or on the playground.

Shelley was quiet, speaking only when the teacher asked her a direct question. She never did anything to draw attention to herself, and when others tried to lure her into a discussion about whose clothes were not up to par or whose family couldn’t afford a decent car, she gently bowed out of a response. Shelley was just plain weird!

One of the boys in my class lived by Shelley, so I asked him. “Why is Shelley so weird?”

“She’s a Christian,” Rodney replied.

“My family is Christian,” I proudly proclaimed.

“Yeah, but her parents and her are serious about it.”

“Serious about Christianity?”

“Yeah, they go to church like three times a week.”

“Three times a week? No way. Church is only on Sunday morning! Nice try, but I ain’t stupid, Rodney.”

“No, I mean it; the church they go to has services on Wednesday night, Sunday morning, and Sunday night

“I never heard of a church like that.”

“Yeah, and they pray all the time. I saw her and her mom in front of their house praying together one time,” Rodney informed me, his eyes as wide as saucers.

“Praying outside in their yard?”

“Yep!”

“No way!”

“They even have Sunday school at their house on the weekdays sometimes. Course that really can’t be called Sunday school…since it’s during the week, so I’m not sure what you call it.”

“That’s so weird.”

“So what’s her being a Christian got to do with her being so weird? I mean she never makes fun of nobody. She doesn’t even run on the playground or argue with everyone. She’s like a walking zombie.”

“It’s got something to do with acting like Jesus would act if he were here.”

“Why does she have to act like Jesus?”

“I don’t know. Look I thought you said you and your family were Christians. Don’t you know anything about this stuff?”

“Well, yeah, we go to Church and this guy tells us what the Bible says, then my parents put some money in a bowl…though some of the people say it is a plate. Looks like a bowl to me though. Then we all eat crackers and drink grape juice, ‘cause it’s really Jesus’ body and blood…I mean not really, but…”

“Ewww…”

“Yeah, I know, it’s kinda creepy. It’s just suppose to be “like” Jesus’ body and blood that he sacrificed so we could like live forever in Heaven and stuff.”

“Hey, look, there’s Billy Parker!” Rodney blurted out, changing the subject entirely. “That’s like the third day in a row he’s had that shirt on. What a loser!”

And with that, Rodney and I took off after Billy Parker (I made up that name to protect the identity of the fashion criminal), hounding him until he took a swing at both me and Rodney.

I never did really find out more about Shelley that year, or any year after for that matter. But her ability to mimic the character of Jesus throughout her time in the Lake Central School Corporation had a profound affect on my life.

When people say it impossible to always ask yourself “What would Jesus do?”, I think of the way Shelley managed to do so on a daily basis. Her Christianity was contagiously genuine, and the fact that I remember her demeanor and her steadfast rejection of mischievous behavior some thirty years later is a testament to the power of a life that mimics Christ.

And now, are you ready for the real irony of this story? Shelley’s last name is Christ. And to this day, I wonder if having the last name of Jesus didn’t enhance her ability to remember to live her life above the folly of this world.

Shelley Christ, I never got to tell you thanks. Thanks you for being something different, something great.

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