This is a story my Mom told me recently, so I can’t verify if she made it up to get onto the blog or not.
I only wish I could reenact it for you in person.
I can reenact the stoned-like face above. Maybe. But I could never, ever again pull off a short skirt like that again.
This incident happened Easter morning when I was about 4 or 5.
I was so excited when I awoke to find a huge basket full of goodies. (Apparently rocks and dirt were my favorite gifts until this point)
I checked out my basket of goodies, then I ran out the front door of our house, heading down the street to my friend Kim’s house. I needed to share the news with her.
I ran down the sidewalk (only 6 houses) and I was shouting:
“He CAME! He CAME! HE CAME!!!”
One of the homes between mine and Kim’s was our Ministers house.
He witnessed my excitement firsthand.
And wouldn’t you know it, when we attended church later that morning, I became part of his sermon.
He thought I was screaming for joy because of Jesus…but at that age, it was all about the Easter Bunny!
As I grew older I learned the truth about Easter. About Jesus.
But I don’t think our Minister ever learned the truth about me.
Bless his heart….