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Some Kids I Have Known
In Memory

April 2, 2007

The day has been sunny and pleasant. A soft breeze across our hill side is heavy with the fragrance of blooming fruit trees. Now the sudden cool of an Oklahoma evening wrapped itself around us. We hurry out the door in our Sunday duds that were remnants of better times and no one seemed to complain. Was this a speaking of maturity something like the whisper of silk clothing blowing in the wind? Youth and vanity were apparently no longer the lance of purpose for our gathering ourselves together with mutual believers to remember the memorial of our Savior’s death and resurrection.

The chugging of the car with its hit and miss performance was enough to distract a saint and I was almost in tears before we finally arrived at our place of worship which was quite on the other side of town. Times and changes were upon all of civilization and we were recipients of this lifestyle.

Early on the establishments of buildings were of micro size to accommodate a small number of worshipers in one congregation. Growth gave no appreciation for the pioneer days when everything was close, comfortable and united giving greater knowledge of one another’s trials, happy moments, or anything tied to life and living.

This evening saw a packed building of enough numbers to serve at least two hundred worshipers. There were bright, clean little girls in fluffy spring dresses, young mothers with sweet babies draped over their
shoulders and friends we knew from our own youth.

The speaker was a maturing gentleman I remembered as a sweet boy with a mischievous grin and way. This determined gentleman looking back out at the audience was a far cry from the child I had in my mind. He spoke gently and echoed our thoughts of reverence and thankfulness for a Savior who had given his life for us who were imperfect and somehow it brought peace to all of us.

The wine passed before us and the bloom of its fragrance was indeed a symbol of Greater forces. Pieces of the unleavened bread spoke as well of deeper meaning while our own bodies struggle through every challenge.

Later in the parking lot of Wendy’s my daughter Rhonda commented.

“Well, Mom, we made if for one more year.”

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