Published by Sandy on 24 Nov 2007
The Kid’s A Chameleon
The kid and her grandmother side kick counted the schools the youngster had attended from 1st through 12th grade, and came up with twenty-one. Five of those years, she stayed in the same school. The other seven were a blur. Not surprising, because she moved frequently. What is surprising, is that she graduated high school period. Later in life, even after college, she had continual nightmares of falling short of completion. Everything from inability to find her classroom, botching the exam, missing the bus, losing her homework, tardiness, studying the wrong stuff, other duties keeping her at bay, and arriving some place other than school. Always reaching for that diploma that said, “you made it.”
Going to school in a one room school house, which included seven grades, this first grader knew everyone. She was related to lots of them. Life was easy. No problems here. Just learning to read and write was the only mission. The next year she was relocated to Brooklyn, Wow! What an antithesis. No corn fields to play in, no yards at all. Concrete everywhere. She thought kids were born with wheels on their feet. Later to discover the wonder of roller skating. Everything was so different.
Everyone walked everywhere, which is why the sidewalks were about as wide as a railroad car is long. School was ten winding blocks away. She was shown the way once, then on her own. The brick building was tall enough to almost reach the clouds. Her classroom was on the sixth floor. All the kids were given dog tags to wear with name and address. If anyone got lost, whoever found them just placed them in the mailbox and they would arrive back with their own folks, she figured. Nevertheless, so different from the mountains from which she came.
Attending school from Montreal to Miami, she was always the new kid. That was the hardest part of all. Everyone staring at her, wondering why is she here. And when they heard her talk, thinking, Good Lord! Where did she come from. She didn’t look like them, act like them and certainly did not sound like them.
Amazingly, she began to blend in. She was surprisingly adaptable. After a few relocates and some humble humiliations, she caught on rather quickly. When in Rome, do as the Romans do. You’re here kid, do the best you can with what you’ve got. It may take some practice, but try to talk like they talk. Yous guys in the north and y’all in the south. Even with her best efforts, she still got stares. She might get the words right, but her accent gave her away. She just had this drawl that distinguished her from the crowd.
Oh well, she would not be here long. Soon enough she would move and the whole thing would start all over again. The school in Miami was shaped like an octopus. All the corridors looked alike from the hub. One would think those intelligent school administrators would label the tunnels. English, Math, Spanish, Cafeteria, they did not. By the time she found her class, often it was over. She began buying junk food on the two mile hike to school so her stomach would not speak out of turn. That was one time she was happy to move, which she did one month after school started.
The best thing about living in Hershey, Pa. was the trip to the chocolate factory. The absolutely biggest bowl she had ever seen with chocolate beating against the glass sides. She’s thinking, if that thing should break, we’d not only be chocolate covered, but have the best food fight ever. In retrospect, I guess, if you die in chocolate, you still die.
One other occasion she was glad to relocate was when she failed the eight grade. Her family moved from Bristol, Tenn. to Allentown, Pa. and shortly thereafter to Catasauqua, Pa., the prettiest little town she had ever seen. The only down side to the quaint little town was this little old lady who apparently was half-witted. She walked real fast and could over take anyone walking to school or just anywhere. She often scared us. She was harmless, just so darn fast. She was upon you before you knew it. Surprise! Than gone just as quickly. Rumor had it that she was related to the founding fathers of Catasauqua, and therefore left loose.
All these adjustments were beneficial to the kid in the long run. God takes everything that happens to us and makes it work out for our good. She learned that there’s more than one way to skin a cat. He made her a chameleon. She could mix with the best of them. The rich and poor were no different, somehow. They were all just people. People who needed acceptance and love. People, who though diverse, are actually the same. The financially wealthy without Jesus are just poor people with money. The impoverished with Jesus are truly rich and CAN climb the ladder of financial success because of HIS Wisdom.
Are you a chameleon? Does anyone know that you are HIS disciple? If it were illegal to be a Christian, would you be let go for lack of evidence? Or would they say, “I know she’s been with Jesus. They speak the same language, and they have the same undeniable accent.” Would your attitude and actions give you away? Let’s stick so close to our Master until we master HIS way of doing things. Until it’s indisputable that we have been with HIM and we are HIS.
You know Peter also had this accent problem. Took him some humble humiliations, but he finally got it right. “Now Peter was sitting outside in the courtyard and one maid came up to him and said, You were also with Jesus the Galilean! But he denied it falsely before them all, saying, I do not know what you mean. And when he had gone out to the porch, another maid saw him and she said to the bystanders. This fellow was with Jesus the Nazarene! And again he denied it and disowned Him with an oath, saying I do not know the Man! After a little while the bystanders came up and said to Peter, You certainly are one of them too, for even YOUR ACCENT betrays you. Then Peter began to invoke a curse on himself and to swear, I do not even know the Man! Matthew 26: 69-74.”
When we have been with Jesus, our accent will give us away. Glory to God! Let’s Just Plead Guilty! We’re in Good Company! When folks can’t tell where HE ends and we begin, we’re in good shape. Let’s keep pressing in until we are molded in HIS Image.