Eight-year-old Melody was lamenting the fact that once Christmas was over, the local church wouldn’t be bringing food to her house until Easter. She asked, “What is Easter?”
My daughter explained that it’s the time of year we remember how Jesus died for our sins and rose again from the grave. Melody replied, “Oh yeah. Now I remember. He did that last year too!”
—Laura Bartleson
Years ago, on a hot, sticky Sunday afternoon, my wife and I made a visit to her parents, who resided in a nearby nursing home. I had changed into shorts (oh my!), but they were black (oh good!). We made an entrance into the home’s common room, which, as usual, was quite full. A certain Mrs. K accosted me and shouted, “Are you the dominee (minister)for today?” Somewhat nonplussed, I suddenly realized she was looking for the visiting preacher for that Sunday. I shook my head with a smile. But she was not done with me. Looking at my attire, she wagged her finger and cried, “Have you no respect for God’s Word?”
—Stan De Jong
My father-in-law is a truck driver. One Monday morning he picked up my 4-year-old nephew, Brian, in his big Peterbilt for a day of trucking together.
“Where are we going, Grandpa?” Brian asked, as he settled into his seat.
“To Lloydminster,” came the reply.
“Oh, Grandpa,” Brian said with huge disappointment. “Can’t we go somewhere else? We spent the whole day at the Lord’s minister yesterday!”
—Alice Klopstra
While marking grade 9 Bible tests, I found this answer to the question “Give three different characteristics of Jezebel”:
“Trendsetter: made all of Israel worship Baal. Liar: lied about Naboth and said he was against the king and God just so she could kill him. Tasty: when she died the dogs couldn’t stop licking up her blood.”
—Dianne Van Rooyen
Anurse on the pediatric ward, before listening to the little ones’ chests, would plug the stethoscope into their ears and let them listen to their own hearts. Their eyes would always light up with awe, but she never got a response equal to 4-year-old David’s comment.
Gently she tucked the stethoscope into his ears and placed the disk over his heart. “Listen,” she said. “What do you suppose that is?”
David drew his eyebrows together in a puzzled line and looked up as if lost in the mystery of the strange tap, tap, tapping deep in his chest. Then his face broke out in a wondrous grin, and he asked, “Is that Jesus knocking?”
—John Vandermeer
We often have our grand-niece for weekends while her mother works. She calls us “Grandpa and Grandma.” One evening when she was 4 or 5 we were leaving a restaurant and “Grandpa” stopped to talk to a business acquaintance. Makala and I continued walking to the car. After waiting several minutes I said, “I wonder what’s keeping Grandpa. He knows we’re locked out.”
Makala immediately replied, “I’ll go check. Grandma, you stay right here. Don’t be afraid. Jesus will take care of you. But watch out for cars!”
—Rotha Essenburg
My 2-year-old granddaughter likes me to read to her. One day I was reading Noah’s ABC’s. Here is how the story goes:
I say, “A”; she says, “is for
alligator.”
I say, “B”; she says, “is for boa constrictor.”
I say, “C,” and so on through the book. There are some rather unusual animals, and she knows them all. But when we got to “R,” there was no response.
Again I said, “R”—silence. Then I whispered in her ear, “is for ravens.”
She looked at me and said, “Grandma, those aren’t raisins. They’re BIRDS!”
—Cathy Ross
During our morning service our associate pastor announced that because of the Super Bowl, the young adult ministry would meet that day from 4:30 to 6:00, instead of their usual time of 6:30 to 8:30, to study the theme of “Setting Our Priorities—Putting God First.”
—Bill Vis
My niece attempted to feed her granddaughter before taking her to afternoon daycare. Everything she mentioned as a possible menu was rejected by the 4-year-old.
Finally, after hearing “no” to everything in the kitchen, my niece said, “Listen. I’m 41 years old, and I’m your grandmother. I’m the one who will tell you what to do.”
Upon entering the daycare facility after a nice lunch, the little girl ran in shouting and pointing, “She’s my grandmother, and she’s 41 years old, and she will tell us what to do!”
—Connon Barclay
