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Easter 2002
Dear Spiritual Partners,
As we step into this miraculous season of beauty and joy I am reminded of
an extremely beautiful story about a small child. The child’s name was
Jeremy and he was born with a twisted body and a slow mind. At the age of
12 he was still in second grade, seemingly unable to learn. His teacher,
Doris Miller, often became exasperated with him. He would squirm in his
seat, drool, and make noises. At other times, he spoke clearly and
distinctly, as if a spot of light had penetrated the darkness of his
brain. Most of the time, however, Jeremy just irritated his teacher.
Then one day he limped to her desk, dragging his challenged leg behind
him. “I love you Miss Miller,” he exclaimed, loud enough for the whole
class to hear. The other students snickered, and Doris’ face turned red.
She stammered, “Why that’s very nice, Jeremy. N-now, please take your
seat.”
Spring came, and the children talked excitedly about the coming of Easter.
Doris told them the story of Jesus, and then to emphasize the idea of new
life springing forth, she gave each of the children a large plastic egg.
“Now,” she said to them, “I want you to take this home and bring it back
tomorrow with something that shows new life. Do you understand?” “Yes,
Miss Miller,” the children responded enthusiastically all except for
Jeremy. He listened intently; his eyes never left her face. He did not
even make his usual noises. Had he understood what she had said about
Jesus death and resurrection? Did he understand the assignment? Perhaps
she should call his parents and explain the project to them? That evening
Doris’ had plumbing problems. She called the landlord and waited an hour
for him to come and attend to the situation. She completely forgot about
phoning Jeremy’s parents.
The next morning, 19 children came to school, laughing and talking as they
placed their eggs in the large wicker basket on Miss Miller’s desk. After
they completed their math lesson, it was time to open the eggs. In the
first egg Miss Miller found a flower. “Oh yes, a flower is certainly a
sign of new life,” she said. “When plants peek through the ground, we know
that spring is here.” A small girl in the first row waved her arm. “That’s
my egg, Miss Miller,” she called out. The next egg contained a plastic
butterfly, which looked very real. Doris held it up. “We all know that a
caterpillar changes and grows into a beautiful butterfly. Yes, that’s new
life too!” Little Judy smiled proudly and said, “Miss Miller, that one is
mine.” Doris found a rock with moss on it. She explained that moss, too,
showed new life. Billy spoke up from the back of the classroom, “My daddy
helped me,” he beamed. Then Doris opened the fourth egg. She gasped. The
egg was empty. Surely it must be Jeremy’s she thought, and of course, he
did not understand her instructions. If only she had not forgotten to
phone his parents. Because she did not want to embarrass him, she quietly
set the egg aside and reached for another. Suddenly Jeremy spoke up. “Miss
Miller, aren’t you going to talk about my egg? Flustered, Doris replied,
“But Jeremy, your egg is empty.” He looked into her eyes and said softly,
“Yes, but Jesus; tomb was empty, too.” Time stopped. When she could speak
again, Doris asked him, “Do you know why the tomb was empty?” “Oh, yes,”
Jeremy said, “Jesus was killed and put in there. Then His Father raised
Him up.”
The recess bell rang. While the children excitedly ran out to the
schoolyard, Doris wept. The cold she felt inside her melted completely
away. Three months later, Jeremy passed away in his sleep. Those who paid
their respects at the memorial service were surprised to see 19 eggs on
top of his casket, all of them empty. “ He is not here for He has risen as
he said He would.”
Do not stand at my grave and cry I Am not there I did not die.
I Am a thousand winds that blow. I Am the diamond glint on snow.
I Am the sunlight on ripened grain, I Am the gentle autumn rain.
When you wake in the morning hush I Am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight I Am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and weep I Am not there I do not sleep.
We shall go higher yet! For we are the resurrection and the life!
I look forward to seeing you at all the wonderful Easter activities that
have been planned for your mental, emotional, and spiritual unfoldment.
Our spiritual mythology is filled with substance and sacred motif that
deepens the quality of our life, as we know it.
In His Love and Sacred Service,
I Am Dr. Sharron Stroud
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