Amen, I say to you, no prophet is accepted in his own native place.
My sister called to tell me that one of the sisters who taught us in elementary school had passed away. I immediately recalled that she was the single teacher in my school career with whom I had difficulty until…
Glenda and I had been classmates since first grade. All was well until sixth grade when we endured some troubles. Glenda began to blossom into a young woman quite noticeably and I managed to annoy our teacher daily regardless of my genuine effort to do the opposite.
One day, Sister assigned essays which would be read to the entire class. Because Glenda and I were shy, we trembled in unison at the thought. Somehow, I managed to read my essay without a fumble. When Sister called Glenda, I closed my eyes to pray that Glenda would also do well. A classmate’s giggle interrupted my prayer. A second giggle prompted me to open my eyes. By the time I focused on Glenda, everyone in the classroom was laughing except for me. When I noticed Glenda’s unbuttoned blouse, I was mortified for her. Fortunately, Sister took control and sent Glenda and me into the hallway.
I explained what had happened while Sister mercilessly reprimanded our classmates. Poor Glenda sobbed until I convinced her that we were the lucky ones as the rest of the class was in deep trouble. In the end, our classmates ostracized Glenda and me for a few weeks because we “got them into trouble.” Never mind their merciless laughter which elicited Glenda’s tears. As for Glenda and me, our friendship grew stronger and Sister managed to muster a bit more patience with me.
Dear God, it isn’t always easy to do the right thing. Still, help me to try.
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