Jeremy was born with a twisted body and a slow mind. At the age of 12
he was still in second grade, seemingly unable to learn. His teacher, Doris
Miller, often became exasperated with him. He would squirm in his seat,
drool, and make grunting noises. At other times, he spoke clearly
and distinctly, as if a spot of light had penetrated the darkness of his
brain. Most of the time, however, Jeremy just irritated his teacher.
One day she called his parents and asked them to come in for a
consultation. As the Forresters entered the empty classroom, Doris said
to them, "Jeremy really belongs in a special school. It isn't fair to
him to be with younger children who don't have learning problems. Why, there
is a five year gap between his age and that of the other students."
Mrs. Forrester cried softly into a tissue, while her husband spoke.
"Miss Miller," he said, "there is no school of that kind nearby. It would be a
terrible shock for Jeremy if we had to take him out of this school. We
know he really likes it here." Doris sat for a long time after they had
left, staring at the snow outside the window. Its coldness seemed to seep into
her soul. She wanted to sympathize with the Forresters. After all,
their only child had a terminal illness. But it wasn't fair to keep him
in her class. She had 18 other youngsters to teach, and Jeremy was a
distraction. Furthermore, he would never learn to read and write. Why waste any more time trying?
As she pondered the situation, guilt washed over her. Here I am
complaining when my problems are nothing compared to that poor family,
she thought. Lord, please help me to be more patient with Jeremy. From
that day on, she tried hard to ignore Jeremy's noises and his blank stares.
Then one day, he limped to her desk, dragging his bad leg behind him.
"I love you, Miss Miller," he exclaimed, loud enough for the whole
class to hear. The other students snickered, and Doris' face burned red. She>
stammered, "Wh-why that's very nice, Jeremy. N-now please take your
seat."
Spring came, and the children talked excitedly about the coming of
Easter. Doris told them the story of Jesus, and then to emphasize the idea of new life springing forth, she gave each of the children a large plastic egg.
"Now," she said to them, "I want you to take this home and bring it back
tomorrow with something inside that shows new life. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Miss Miller," the children responded enthusiastically-all except
for Jeremy. He listened intently; his eyes never left her face. He did not
even make his usual noises. Had he understood what she had said about
Jesus' death and resurrection? Did he understand the assignment? Perhaps
she should call his parents and explain the project to them.
That evening, Doris' kitchen sink stopped up. She called the landlord
and waited an hour for him to come by and unclog it. After that, she
still had to shop for groceries, iron a blouse, and prepare a vocabulary test for the next day. She completely forgot about phoning Jeremy's parents.
The next morning, 19 children came to school, laughing and talking as
they placed their eggs in the large wicker basket on Miss Miller's desk.
After they completed their math lesson, it was time to open the eggs. In
the first egg, Doris found a flower. "Oh yes, a flower is certainly a sign
of new life," she said. "When plants peek through the ground, we know that
spring is here." A small girl in the first row waved her arm. "That's
my egg, Miss Miller," she called out. The next egg contained a plastic
butterfly, which looked very real. Doris held it up. "We all know that a
caterpillar changes and grows into a beautiful butterfly. Yes, that's
new life, too." Little Judy smiled proudly and said, "Miss Miller, that one
is mine." Next, Doris found a rock with moss on it. She explained that
moss, too, showed life. Billy spoke up from the back of the classroom,
"My daddy helped me," he beamed.
Then Doris opened the fourth egg. She gasped. The egg was empty.
Surely it must be Jeremy's she thought, and of course, he did not understand her
instructions. If only she had not forgotten to phone his parents.
Because she did not want to embarrass him, she quietly set the egg aside and
reached for another. Suddenly, Jeremy spoke up. "Miss Miller, aren't
you going to talk about my egg?" Flustered, Doris replied, "But Jeremy, your
egg is empty." He looked into her eyes and said softly, "Yes, but Jesus'
tomb was empty, too."
Time stopped. When she could speak again, Doris asked him, "Do you
know why the tomb was empty?" "Oh, yes," Jeremy said, "Jesus was killed and
put in there. Then His Father raised Him up."
The recess bell rang. While the children excitedly ran out to the
schoolyard, Doris cried. The cold inside her melted completely away.
Three months later, Jeremy died. Those who paid their respects at the
mortuary were surprised to see 19 eggs on top of his casket....... all of them
empty.
He's My Only Son"
(A Thought Provoking Story For Good Friday) Author Unknown
The day is over, you are driving home. You
tune in your radio.You hear a little blurb about a little village in India
where some villagers have died suddenly, strangely, of a flu that has
never been seen before. Its not influenza, but three of four people are dead,
and its kind of interesting, and they are sending some doctors over there
to investigate it.
You don't think much about it, but on Sunday, coming home
from church, you hear another radio spot. Only they say its not three
villagers, its 30,000 villagers in the back hills of this particular area
of India, and it's on TV that night. CNN runs a little blurb; people
are heading there from the disease center in Atlanta because this
disease strain has never been seen before.
By Monday morning when you get up, its the lead story. For its not just India; its Pakistan, Afghanistan,
Iran and before you know it, you're hearing this story everywhere and they
have coined it now as "the mystery flu." The President has made some comment
that he and everyone are praying and hoping that all will go well over there.
But everyone is wondering, "How are we going to contain it?" That's when
the President of France makes an announcement that shocks Europe. He is
closing their borders. No flights from India, Pakistan, or any of the
countries where this thing has been seen.
And that's why that night you are
watching a little bit of CNN before going to bed. Your jaw hits your chest
when a weeping woman is translated from a French news program into English;
There's a man lying in a hospital in Paris dying of the mystery flu. It
has come to Europe. Panic strikes. As best they can tell, once you get it you
have it for a week before you know it. Then you have four days of
unbelievable symptoms. And then you die.
Britain closes its borders, but its
too late. South Hampton, Liverpool, North Hampton and it's Tuesday morning when
the President of the United States makes the following announcement: "Due
to a national security risk, all flights to and from Europe and Asia have
been canceled. If your loved ones are overseas, I'm sorry. They cannot come
back until we find a cure for this thing." Within four days our nation has
been plunged into an unbelievable fear. People are talking about "What if it
comes to this country"? And preachers on Tuesday are saying "It's the scourge
of God."
It's Wednesday night and you are at a church prayer meeting
when somebody runs if from the parking lot and yells, "Turn on a
radio, turn on a radio!" And while the church listens to a little transistor
radio with a microphone stuck up to it, the announcement is made.
Two women are lying in a Long Island hospital dying from the mystery
flu. Within hours it seems, this thing just sweeps across the country.
People are working around the clock trying to find an antidote. Nothing is
working. California, Oregon, Arizona, Florida, Massachusetts. It's as though
it's just sweeping in from the borders. And then all of a sudden the news
comes out. The code has been broken. A cure can be found. A vaccine can
be made. It's going to take the blood of somebody who hasn't been
infected and so, sure enough, all through the Midwest, through all those
channels of emergency broadcasting, everyone is asked to do one simple
thing: Go to your downtown hospital and have your blood type taken.
That's all we ask of you. When you hear the sirens go off in
your neighborhood, please make your way quickly, quietly and safely,
to the hospitals.
Sure enough, when you and your family get down there late
on that Friday night, there is a long line and they've got nurses and
doctors coming out and pricking fingers and taking blood and putting labels
on it. Your spouse and your kids are out there, and they take your blood
type and they say, "wait here in the parking lot and if we call your name you
can be dismissed and go home." You stand around, scared, with your
neighbors, wondering what in the world is going on and if this is the end of
the World.
Suddenly a young man comes running out of the hospital
screaming. He's yelling a name and waving a clipboard. What? He yells it
again! And your son tugs on your jacket and says," Daddy, that's me."
Before you know it, they have grabbed your boy. "Wait a minute. Hold
on!" And they say, Its okay, his blood is clean. His blood is pure.
We want to make sure he doesn't have the disease. We think he has got
the right type. Five tense minutes later, out come the doctors and nurses
crying and hugging one another-some are even laughing. It's the first
time you have seen anybody laugh in a week, and an old doctor walks up to you
and says, "Thank you sir. Your son's blood type is perfect. It's clean, it is
pure, and we can make the vaccine."
As the word begins to spread all across that parking lot full of folks, people are screaming and praying and
laughing and crying. But then the gray-haired doctor pulls you and your wife
aside and says, "May we see you for a moment? We didn't realize that the
donor would be a minor and we need.....we need you to sign a consent form."
You begin to sign and then you see that the number of pints of blood to
be taken is empty. "H-h-h-ow many pints?" And that is when the old doctor's
smile fades and he says, "We had no idea it would be a little child. We
weren't prepared. We need it all!"
"But-but. . . .I don't understand. He's my
only son!"
"We are talking about the world here. Please sign. We-We
need it all!"
"But can't you give him a transfusion?" "If we had clean
blood we would. Please, will you please sign?"
In numb silence you do. Then
they say, "would you like to have a moment with him before we begin?" Could
you walk back? Could you walk back to that room where he sits on a table
saying, "Daddy? Mommy? What's going on?" Could you take his hands and
say, "Son, your mommy and I love you and we would never ever let anything
happen to you that didn't just have to be. Do you understand that?"
And
when that old doctor comes back in and says, "I'm sorry, we've got to get
started. People all over the world are dying." Could you leave? Could you
walk out while he is saying, "Dad? Mom? Dad? Why. . . .why have you forsaken
me?"
And then next week, when they have the ceremony to honor your
son, and some folks sleep through it, and some folks don't even bother
to come because they have better things to do, and some folks come
with just a pretentious smile and just pretend to care. Would you want to
jump up and say, "EXCUSE ME! MY SON DIED FOR YOU! MY ONLY SON! DON'T YOU EVEN CARE? DOES
IT MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?"
I wonder, is that what God wants to say?
Easter Story Cookies
Submitted by Jann Perry
You need:
1 c. whole pecans
1 tsp. vinegar
3 egg whites
1 pinch salt
1 c. sugar
Zipper baggie, wooden spoon, tape and Bible
Preheat oven to 300 degrees F. Place pecans in zipper baggie and let children beat them with the wooden spoon to break into small pieces
Explain that after Christ was arrested he was beaten by the Roman soldiers. Read John 19:1-3
Let each child smell the vinegar. Put 1-tsp. vinegar into mixing bowl.
Explain that when Jesus was thirsty on the cross he was given vinegar to drink. Read John 19:28-30.
Add egg whites to vinegar. Eggs represent life. Explain that Jesus gave His life to give us life. Read John 10:10-11.
Sprinkle a little salt into each child's hand. Let them taste it and brush the rest into the bowl. Explain that this represents the salty tears shed by His followers, and the bitterness of our own sin. Read Luke 23:27.
So far the ingredients are not very appetizing.
Add 1-c. sugar.
Explain that the sweetest part of the story is that our Savior died because He loves us. He wants us to know and belong to Him. Read Psalms 34:8 and John 3:16.
Beat with a mixer on high speed for 12 to 15 minutes until stiff peaks are formed. Explain that the color white represents the purity in God's eyes of those whose sins have been cleansed by Jesus. Read Isaiah 1:18 and John 3:1-3.
Fold in broken nuts. Drop by teaspoons onto wax paper covered cookie sheet. Explain that each mound represents the rocky tomb where His body was laid. Read Matt. 27:57-60.
Put the cookie sheet in the oven; close the door and turn the oven OFF.
Give each child a piece of tape and seal the oven door.
Explain that our Lord's tomb was sealed. Read Matt. 7:65-66.
GO TO BED! Explain that they may feel sad to leave the cookies in the oven overnight. Our Saviors followers were in despair when the tomb was sealed. Read John 16:20 & 22.
In the morning, open the oven and give everyone a cookie. Notice the cracked surface and take a bite. The cookies are hollow! On the first Easter, Jesus' followers were amazed to find the tomb open and empty. Read Matt. 28:1-9.
Why do we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus on Easter?
Who is Jesus Christ?
Why did He come here in the first place?
What does the resurrection of Jesus have to do with me?
Click here for some answers.
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