Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Alisa recently mentioned those Bibles that Grandma and Grandpa gave us one Christmas when we were kids. Our names were printed on the front in gold, and all Jesus's words were in red. How old were we? 8 and 10, something like that? I wish I still had mine. It was an odd little forbidden fruit as I saw it in those days. I knew that Dad didn't appreciate their "meddling" by giving us those Bibles. I thought that if I had disdain for it as well (not that I understood disdain really) that would earn me some approval from Dad. But I was curious about the Bible too, and occasionally tempted to read it. That usually lasted a couple verses.
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I was 10, so you and Judith were 8. I know that because I have mine. And it has my partially-filled out family tree. I only read and re-read about 2 parts. I liked Genesis, because it was the beginning. I liked the "begats" part. I also liked the birth of Jesus parts which I became acquainted with through Linus on Charlie Brown's Christmas. That scene always makes me cry.
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