From My Diary: Happiness

I recall it, and my eyes pump water from deep within my soul; I have to pause and wipe the tears away before continuing to write. Not far from Wrigley Field nearly 50 years ago; From a little college on the north side of Chicago; I graduated, following four years of very hard work. There was a Bible College, training kids for Christian ministry. I have many fond memories involving good and noble people. I must site one of such memories, planted so deep inside my heart and mind. It is not the one where 'I froze' in my attempt at learning to preach and sermonize, and experienced no pain nor change of professional pursuit because my teacher and fellow classmates were so considerate and understanding. Nor was it the one where my history instructor, without realizing it, gave me a fresh sense of 'belonging', and reassured me that I had made the right choice of schools to pursue my education. No, it was the one where my theology professor and college president conducted a communion service for all the students. The manner in which the ceremony was done would be forbidden in today's world because of health issues and concerns. I suppose that is the primary reason I so treasure the memory. On a particular day in a chapel service, as I recall, there were some 25 to 30 students present. We all broke bread from a 'common loaf' and drank grape juice from a 'common pitcher' with never a concern for health. Never since have I shared an experience of such 'common spiritual intimacy', nor expect to; but that treasured moment of 'family and communion' is forever sealed in my heart and soul. 11/4/17PSContest, From My Diary, BW, 10P