Chapter 17
To Crush a Flower
“What’s the name of the new church?” Missy asked, as we walked in from the school parking lot, past the trees with branches stark and naked in the late autumn cold.
“Cupertino Bible Church,” I answered her.
“Isn’t that a redundancy?” Mick asked. “Don’t all churches use the bible?”
“That’s just it,” I began. “Since the last church used the bible but got away from applying it, instead, sort of replacing it with rituals and papal rules, Pastor Matthew wanted a name that states that the bible is their only form of doctrine.”
“That’s good,” Missy said.
“Yeah, sounds good, but don’t you think that the other church began with the same idea?” Mick asked, pulling the collars of his navy blue wool watch coat, around his neck.
“Probably,” I answered him. “I doubt if any church is established with the thought of creating their own set of rules and worshipping those rules instead of the ruler. Somehow it just happens. Maybe someone commits a sin and the elders get together and think up a rule that if obeyed would prevent anyone else committing the same sin. Before long they’re thinking up all sorts of these rules until everyone forgets what each rule was suppose to prevent! Then tradition sets in and if anyone stands up and says lets get rid of a certain rule, others denounce him and claim that they have always done it that way.”
“So nothing ever changes,” Mick said.
“Unless half your church walks out on you,” Missy offered.
“Yeah, that could be a catalyst to changing,” I agreed. I zipped up my down jacket to the top of my neck. December had come in with a cold front from Alaska, slapping everyone around and leaving us all red faced and numb.
“Man it’s cold,” Mick announced, as if reading my thoughts.
“It certainly is,” I concurred, stepping over a green plant with a yellow bloom. I turned upon hearing Mick stepping on the plant, crushing the flower.
“Hey! You just crushed that flower!” I yelled.
“It should watch where it’s growing,” he said off-handedly.
“Let’s go inside and get some hot chocolate,” Missy suggested, not caring about the plant. “I’ll buy!”
“You come into some money?” Mick asked, the flower having passed from his mind.
“I work!” She protested, with a whine.
We walked into the school cafeteria receiving disgusted looks from our fellow students as they felt the discomfort of the cold air that walked in with us. I smiled and most returned the gesture. The rest turned their heads away as if too important to acknowledge me.
“It feels sooo good!” Missy exclaimed, regaling in the warmth.
“I’m melting, I’m melting,” Mick started, mimicking the wicked witch of the east, pulling on his cold red cheeks as the room’s warmth massaged into them.
We found a table and I put my backpack on top of it, then we went to get our drinks. It didn’t take long to feed Missy’s quarters into the vending machine and receive our hot whipped chocolates. We were back to our table within a minute sipping our warm, sweet libations.
“You ready for finals?” I asked Mick.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he answered.
“What about you Missy?”
YOU ARE READING
Childlike
SpiritualitéJoshua Nun starts his first year in college with hopes of adventure, education and finding a girlfriend. Much to his surprise he meets not one but three ladies, all who want to help him find God. Joshua, with help from his friends, manages to travel...
