Saturday, February 11, 2012
I remember when I was in the 7th or 8th grade. A paper was due in Mrs. Foster’s Literature Class. We were to write a paper about what we wanted to do later in life. I grew up on a farm. I wanted to be a farmer. I wrote about growing things. I wrote about the smell and feel of a handful of dirt. The dirt seemed to be alive. It was warm in my hand as I pulled it near my nose to smell. I let it filter through my fingers as it fell to the earth. I walked across the field and kicked at the hay drying in the sun waiting to be baled. I could smell the musty aroma. I ended with; I want to be a farmer, God’s servant in the field. Mrs. Foster graded the papers. Near the end of the class she said she wanted to read one of the papers. She read mine aloud before the class. In a way I was proud. In another way I was embarrassed. Some of my classmates sort of snickered. They thought my aspirations were set too low. At the end of the class Mrs. Foster told me to wait a moment. She said, you may become a farmer. You may learn a way to feed the world. When you get as old as me, remember a long time ago when you took a pencil in your hand and made an old woman proud. I walked toward the door and she called my Name. She said, Johnny. I have to know something. Did you make the dirt smudge bellow the last line intentionally? I said yes. She said, you’re pretty smart. I walked toward the door. I turned around and said, Mrs. Foster. You’re pretty smart too. As I stepped into the hall I heard the rustle of tissue from the box she kept on her desk. I wiped a damp eye with my shirt sleeve as I walked down the hall.
Jesus was called The Teacher. He taught the disciples and teaches us through the Bible every day. If you read the Bible and study it as you read you will learn from The Teacher, our Lord, Jesus Christ.
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