So this morning, Alan and I were invited to Amelia's 5th grade Bible class to talk about our journey along the Christian road. Alan speaks all day every day to grown-ups. He's got a real job, after all, and he's expected to be able to communicate to lots of different kinds of folks. Me, not so much. I could write it on a sign and hold it up...but saying it out loud...bah.
I must say I worried a bit about Alan taking his big people speak and translating it for eleven-year-olds. But here's the thing...Alan was the coolest dad there. Amelia slumped a little while I spoke but she grinned some kind of grin I'd never even seen on her face while daaaady spoke.
Me and the four other parents who weren't Alan all waxed philosophically about reading the Bible every day and building a firm foundation that we can stand on during hard times. The kids' eyes literally glazed, crusted and closed. Amelia often makes the cricket sound during these awkward moments and halfway through my spiel I actually wanted to make a cricket sound for myself.
But Alan...the last speaker...swooped in and talked about, of all things, a school bus! Way to understand your audience, Dad. He inspired the kids and me and had the teachers nodding wildly in agreement, too.
So here's my synopsis...
When Alan was a little one, he lived on a large ranch in North Texas. Fifteen miles outside of the small town where he went to school. His mom and dad were up at dawn getting the ranch stuff done so Alan and his sister had to catch the bus to school. The country bus... the one that rambled down the dirt roads and was such a dusty rattle trap it was always shocking when it pulled into the school parking lot. Apparently the country life produces bullies as often as city life and Alan had to face four bullies daily on that bus. Alan was little, scrawny, pencil-necked (his words not mine) and became a target. He hated the bus. He knew exactly how long the torment would last and he didn't breathe until the bus stopped at school.
Finally in the sixth grade, his mother took a job in town at a dress shop and she was able to drive Alan and his sister to school. After school they'd walk to the dress shop for the ride home. It was during this special year that Alan decided to be baptized. His little Christian church studied with the kids who wanted to be baptized so they'd know exactly what this decision meant for their lives. So, three days a week after school for several weeks, Alan went to a class at his church. And. He. Had. To. Ride. The. Bus. To. Get. There! Yes, he was back on the bus with the same bullies. Fourteen blocks from school to church and torment all the way!
And imagine their delight when they realized that the scrawny kid was riding the bus to church!
But you know what? Alan did it. He didn't miss a session. He endured. He persevered. He felt first-hand what it meant to be different for Christ. And he says he gained a perspective and a strength from the school bus debacle that prepared him for the tough days ahead. The days when his middle school and later high school friends began making poor choices. The days when he was faced with temptations sometimes too irresistible for a teenage boy. He held on to the faith that he had fought for as a sixth grader. And he made it.
He asked the kids to raise their hands if they ride the bus and then he told those kids to look for opportunities to learn and to grow. To see the bus as a little community that displays all the problems in this fallen world. To look for ways to be different and to be strong.
He said some other stuff, too, and it was good. I cried. Amelia was so proud. And the other kids liked Alan. A lot.
I like him, too. And he's all mine.
Love, Laura
Sunday, March 28, 2010
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