Chrissy's Home (Part I)

She stuck out like a lily among thorns, when she sprung up in the midst of the Baptist Student Union. All eyes were on her, as she raised her hands and lifted up her eyes with her voice. Chrissy signed and swayed in reverence and awe of God's presence. Although some thought she was acting irreverently, I knew Jesus was the treasure of her heart and that He was pleased with her. Chrissy was one of the most unconventional Christians I met in college. She wore snug faded blue jeans with the knees out and an over washed, green, sleeveless army shirt. She was very petite and fair-skinned with thin cherry lips and rosy cheeks. Her hair was long, brown and frizzy, usually worn in a ponytail and matched by her thick eyebrows haloing her innocent blue eyes, which lit up as she ran and bounced around campus barefoot. Her feet were so cute and tiny; they took my breath away and made my heart pound, especially her right foot. It was like lead on the gas pedal. That tender child would become another woman behind the wheel, and I always felt as if I was in a centrifuge. Once, on our way to church, she was traveling 70 miles per hour around sharp curves and over unarmed railroad tracks. All the way there, she was smiling that patented smile that had won the hearts of many and oscillating her head from side to side to the music, as the truck jerked from left to right and seemed to ride on two wheels. My eyes were enlarged. Apparently, Chrissy figured out that I was frightened when she noticed my locked jaw and gritting teeth; as my left hand clawed the cracked vinyl seat, my right gripped the armrest on the door.