sunshineaaks
Member
- Joined
- Oct 14, 2010
- Messages
- 176
The fifth grade class was given an assignment. They were to find a person they admired and recite to the class the reasons why this person had become their super hero.
They each got up in turn recounting admirable traits as to why such and such a person had become a hero to them in their short lived life. There were grandparents who told stories of long ago, aunts who designed a new outfit, uncles and dads who taught so much about the sports arena or hunting, mothers and teachers whose gentle guidance brought pride to a project well done. Still others went historical with heroes of long ago whose bit of inspiration taught there was nothing that could defeat a well planned out idea or invention. There were sports heroes, women of liberation, doctors and lawyers who gained much respect from the student as the smiling teacher listened with a nod of approval for each rendition.
The last little girl, quite shy and very quiet most days, stood with her crutches that held her steady. She smiled at each of her classmates as though she considered each of them a dear friend, even though many teased her incessantly for her handicap and awkwardness. They didn’t need to know of the many nights she went home and cried herself to sleep.
Looking down at her paper she began in a slow ever so quiet voice, but this was to be the only time she glanced at her paper as her voice grew strong.
“We are told that we can not speak of God in our schools, so I will not have Him as my hero but since no one is condemned or sent to the principal’s office for speaking His Son’s name, though most the time it's spoken in anger or disgust at recess, or in the locker rooms, or on the sports field, or even in the class room, I do make Him my hero.”
She swallowed hard and smiled through the welling tears. "So without fear of retaliation, since so many speak His name, I'll tell you why Jesus Christ is my hero. There are many reasons but the main one is because He died so that I might live. He gave the one most precious thing so that I might see Him one day and be free of the crutches that hold this body steady. He has given me the strength to withstand all that is tossed my way each day so that I remain calm and in prayer. He alone has given the power to forgive those who bring harm to my life and He gives me peace.”
The little girl’s voice becomes stronger and she appeared to stand a little straighter as she continued. “He is my hero because without Him by my side, I would have given up a long time ago and let life bring bitter hatred for all those He, Himself, holds so dear if only they would come to Him. He gave me this path to walk, sometimes alone, sometimes with a friend but always with Him.”
She glanced at the floor in front of her as if deep in thought. “We are told that we can not speak of God in our schools, but I thank Him that we can speak of His Son, Jesus Christ without repudiation.” She smiled at the tear streaked face of her teacher and added. “That last word I had to look up in the dictionary since I do not have a computer which would have made it all so much easier. “Without repudiation” means without denial. “Without repudiation” means I can acknowledge Jesus Christ as my hero knowing that even if I am condemned, He is proud.”
The little girl slowly eased herself to her seat with bowed head. One by one she heard the hands begin to clap in unison as each young heart began to grow that day. She glanced around at her classmates and smiled that in this one day her hero was heard.
Three days later she was laid to rest and each of her classmates stood in reverence proclaiming their own new found hero.
They each got up in turn recounting admirable traits as to why such and such a person had become a hero to them in their short lived life. There were grandparents who told stories of long ago, aunts who designed a new outfit, uncles and dads who taught so much about the sports arena or hunting, mothers and teachers whose gentle guidance brought pride to a project well done. Still others went historical with heroes of long ago whose bit of inspiration taught there was nothing that could defeat a well planned out idea or invention. There were sports heroes, women of liberation, doctors and lawyers who gained much respect from the student as the smiling teacher listened with a nod of approval for each rendition.
The last little girl, quite shy and very quiet most days, stood with her crutches that held her steady. She smiled at each of her classmates as though she considered each of them a dear friend, even though many teased her incessantly for her handicap and awkwardness. They didn’t need to know of the many nights she went home and cried herself to sleep.
Looking down at her paper she began in a slow ever so quiet voice, but this was to be the only time she glanced at her paper as her voice grew strong.
“We are told that we can not speak of God in our schools, so I will not have Him as my hero but since no one is condemned or sent to the principal’s office for speaking His Son’s name, though most the time it's spoken in anger or disgust at recess, or in the locker rooms, or on the sports field, or even in the class room, I do make Him my hero.”
She swallowed hard and smiled through the welling tears. "So without fear of retaliation, since so many speak His name, I'll tell you why Jesus Christ is my hero. There are many reasons but the main one is because He died so that I might live. He gave the one most precious thing so that I might see Him one day and be free of the crutches that hold this body steady. He has given me the strength to withstand all that is tossed my way each day so that I remain calm and in prayer. He alone has given the power to forgive those who bring harm to my life and He gives me peace.”
The little girl’s voice becomes stronger and she appeared to stand a little straighter as she continued. “He is my hero because without Him by my side, I would have given up a long time ago and let life bring bitter hatred for all those He, Himself, holds so dear if only they would come to Him. He gave me this path to walk, sometimes alone, sometimes with a friend but always with Him.”
She glanced at the floor in front of her as if deep in thought. “We are told that we can not speak of God in our schools, but I thank Him that we can speak of His Son, Jesus Christ without repudiation.” She smiled at the tear streaked face of her teacher and added. “That last word I had to look up in the dictionary since I do not have a computer which would have made it all so much easier. “Without repudiation” means without denial. “Without repudiation” means I can acknowledge Jesus Christ as my hero knowing that even if I am condemned, He is proud.”
The little girl slowly eased herself to her seat with bowed head. One by one she heard the hands begin to clap in unison as each young heart began to grow that day. She glanced around at her classmates and smiled that in this one day her hero was heard.
Three days later she was laid to rest and each of her classmates stood in reverence proclaiming their own new found hero.
