The Stop Sign, Part 7

The Stop Sign, Part 7

Soon the hall was empty except for Billy and the professor who remained sitting on his desk. Shortly Billy rose from his seat, grabbed the loops of a backpack and walked down the slanted aisle to where the professor sat. Reaching into his pack, Billy took out a brown paper wrapped item, a gift with a colorful red ribbon and placed it on the professor’s brief case. Billy extended his hand to the professor.

“I really appreciate your thoughts,” he said. “I think it was difficult to share those in today’s class. Good luck as you retire.”

The professor grabbed Billy’s hand and shook it but not sure exactly what it meant. In his heart he wanted to confirm what Billy Lynch had said but it seemed unwise at the moment as he simply wanted the day to end, not knowing what might happen next as the word spread among the students that he had actually questioned the validity of evolution.

“Thanks,” he said. “Thanks for being in my class today. What is in the package,” he asked, lifting it from its place on the desk and balancing it in his hand.

“It is something I’ve been holding for you,” said Billy. “I hope you enjoy it.”

With that, Billy Lynch left the professor sitting on the desk, walked up the stairway to the hallway and disappeared.

The professor sat on his desk for a long time, pondering the comments he had just made and heard and wondering about the package he held. He wondered how it could be that he had drifted so far away from the goals he had embraced when a child. His mind took him back to moments when, as a ten-year-old lad at a church camp, he had decided that being a Christian was the right thing to do. His decision followed a week of camp fun; lots of swimming, hiking, singing and bon fires at Camp Lake Louise in Michigan. It was a great trip for a kid like him. He remembered the ride in a old green school bus which took the young people from their small country church near Bowling Green, Ohio to the camp not far from the big Mac bridge at the northern tip of Michigan’s southern peninsula. He could nearly smell the inescapable odors of the Cedar boards used in the construction of the cabins and the wonderful meals; the experiences came back to his mind as though they occurred yesterday. It had been a memorable experience. Each night at the campfire, the camp pastor would tell bible stories and challenge the young people to give their lives to Christ. On the last night little Jimmy Wilson (that’s what they called him) raised his hand and decided then and there that he would live for God the rest of his life.

When he returned to the Ohio farmhouse where he lived with his mother and father, he was quick to share the news of his time at camp, especially of deciding to be a Christian.

“This is wonderful,” said his father. “We have been praying for you even since you were born.” His mother hugged him and kissed him on the check. “We are so happy,” she said.

Dan Schobert, W9MFG@charter.net