I sat down at my arbor bench this afternoon. The weather was beautiful, a perfect Resurrection Sunday. But that's not the reason I chose to sit there.
The neighborhood kids were outside too. The girl across the lane had sprained her ankle a couple of days before, but that didn't keep her inside. Between her deck chair and her crutches she was still keeping her friend well entertained with her lively creativity.
When I seated myself on my arbor bench she noticed. "Story! Story! Tell us a story again, please, please!"
I had sat there once before while she and the other two neighborhood children had clustered around listening to a story. Now, when they saw me there they began begging for another one. This was exactly what I wanted to do with this special Sunday afternoon.
The neighbor on crutches claimed the seat beside me and the other sat down on her coat on the stone patio in front of me.
I started with one of the stories about my mother, Susie, and they shared plenty of their own experiences too, but gradually we got onto the subject of death and resurrection. I realized that no made up bunny story could be as fascinating to children as the true story of Jesus dying on the cross and raising from the dead and conquering death and the grave.
Those children are hungry for something more than chocolate eggs. Is this why God placed my husband and me here?
For the next post see: Without God the roles could have been reversed
For the previous post see: Three Score and Ten