Little Jimmy ran down the street as fast as he could go. He hated school, he detested it like a disease, and would have liked to be done with the whole of it. He didn't see the point of school. Jimmy believed that a person should only learn what they are interested in learning--and he did not want to learn math. At all. He believed that if you know how to add, subtract and multiply that was the maximum you needed to know.
Jimmy Pearson was playing hookey. He had a math test today that he didn't want to take---and that's why he was running, hoping desperatly that no one would catch him.
As he rounded a corner, Jimmy stopped. In front of him was a group of men surrounding a younger man of about twenty. They were shouting something at him, but Jimmy couldn't quite hear what it was. The young man was speaking quietly in a gentle, commanding way.
Appearently one of the others, a tall older man of about thirty, didn't like what he said and lashed out a right fist. The boy dodged perfectly. This only enraged his opponent however, and he struck again. Once more the boy dodged. Now the entire gang began to mob him, and Jimmy was afraid for the couragous young man. Suddenly, when all seemed lost, Jimmy was stunned to see this outnumbered boy flip above his enemies and land on the outside of the circle, leaving the gang to hit themselves. The boy walked up to Jimmy in a nonchalont way, and said:
"Jimmy, get back to school, your math test is waiting." Usually, when this happens, Jimmy sulks and obeys. But this was different. He admired the man very much, but had open eyes that this man knew who he was. Jimmy freaked. And he ran back to school faster then he had come. Later that day, Jimmy walked home. He had failed his math test....again. As he entered the kitchen, he saw the same man there eating p.b and j's with a glass of milk. Jimmy stood stalk still. He had supposed he had imagined him...but here he was, eating p.b and j's!
"Hello, Jimmy!" the man greeted him warmly.
"Uh..hello.." Jimmy stuttered back.
"Oh hello, dear," his mother said as she entered. "I'd like to introduce you to my youngest brother and your uncle, James Matthew Sander."
"How did you know me?" Jimmy asked, not at all sure this wasn't a dream.
"Look." James showed him a picture of himself at his last birthday.
"But...my math..."
"Your mother told me how much you hate it, and that it was today. By the way, how did it go?"
"I failed. As always."
"Jimmy, listen. Just because math is difficult, it doesn't mean it's not worth doing."
"What will I ever do with it?"
"Do you remember this morning, when I, er, got myself outa that group?"
"How could I forget...." Jimmy muttered.
"That was based on math calulations, and some faith in God."
"God?"
"Now James! I thought we agreed..." his mother began.
"Do you want him to fail?"
"No...but.."
"Then, let me speak to him about it." The fact that his mother had been unwilling to speak of 'God' was intriging to Jimmy, and he became interested.
"Come on, Jimmy, let me tell you a story....Once there was a man, whose name was Jesus...."
"Jesus?"
"Yes, a beautiful name, isn't it?"
Jimmy's mother sighed. She had given up her belief when her husband had died in the War, the same war her brother just returned from.
Later that evening, James strolled over to her.
"Amy," he said gently, putting his hand in hers, "here is something your husband asked me to give you when I returned." As she looked down into her hand, she saw a crucifix, and tears began to fill her eyes.
"They both died to save those they loved best, Amy, never forget that."
