Clinton Wynn Dobbs - Honey Grove, TX Joseph S. Dugger - Searcy, AR Kara Lynn Dunaway - Ca rthage, MO Thomas W. Dunckley - Naples, FL Kythrie D'J yn Dunkin - Pasadena, TX Dennis Michael Dyes - St. Louis, MO David Edward Earnhart - Cahokia, IL Rebessa Lynn Eason - Birmingham, AL Kenneth David Edwards - Ca rthage, MO Carol Lynn Elliot - W. Memphis, AR Bryan E. Ellsworth - Pensacola, FL Gregory Scott English - Atlanta, TX Larah E. Erickson - Lake Park, FL Laura Jane Escue - Memphis, TN Christmas season brings thoughts of 'real' meanings What about all this religious Christmas stuff? Is it really Jesus' birthday? I don't think so. I used to be sure it wasn't, but Donny Parker showed me differently. Donny was the best friend a seven-year-old could ever have. We did everything together. We rode bikes together, we ate King Vitamin Cereal together. We played war together, and spent the night at each other's house every weekend. We were blood brothers. We both hated girls and we stuck up for each other when someone called me fat or him four eyes. We even had a secret handshake - a true friendship. Donny looked up to me and rightfully so. I was older than he (2 months) , a fact I frequently reminded him of and I outweighed him 30 pounds, a fact he frequently reminded me of. Age and weight are two factors that loom large in seven-yearolds' relationships, so when Don had a question, he would often come to me. One December day, as we played in a snowbank, Donny had a question. We had been talking about Christmas, the number one December topic for sevenyear-olds, when he said: "Mark, I was wonderin', is Christmas really Jes us' birthday?" I confess now that I rarely, if ever, knew the answers to any of Don's questions. Usually I'd just act like I knew and he would believe me. But this time was different. I actually knew the answer. This was my chance to tell Don something about Jesus other than he was a prefix for various swearwords. "No, No, No!" I blurted out, scorning Don for his blatant ignorance. "It's not his birthday and don't let anyone tell you differently. No one knows when his birthday is!" Don sat there for a while almost embarrassed that he had even asked. He knew better than to argue theological issues with a guy who went to church on Wednesday nights, but under his breath he mumbled, "If nobody knew when my birthday was, I wouldn't mind if they just picked a day." I still remember what Donny mumbled that day in that snow bank. Donny, who had never been to church a day in his life, saw a smiling Jesus who said "go ahead, just pick a day" and I saw a frowning Jesus yelling, "NO, NO, NO, for the last time, it's not my birthday!" Do we really think that he cringes when we sing about mangers? When he hears songs about Bethlehem and wise men does he pull his hair and say "it never says three, it never says three .. . "I doubt it. I really doubt it. Fifteen years later, I wonder if Don remembers what I told him. I hope not, because he now has a two-year-old who might ask him the same question. What a shame if that's the only thing he remembers about his friend who went to church three times a week. -Mark Moore CHRISTMAS MEMORIES. Tiffany Ann Allison, two-year-old niece of Sharon BowJes, delights in decorating her Christmas tree. Christmas excited and cheered both young and old. -Photo by Sharon Bowles.
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