“Stu, I’m hungry, when we gonna eat? We been walkin’ a long time.” Newt whined, “I’m thirsty, my head hurts.”
“Pipe down Newt, someone’ll hear you.” Stu tiptoed slowly, testing each step.
Newt followed along, rubbing his empty stomach between steps. He hoped it didn’t growl loud enough for someone to hear. He’d not eaten a bite since early supper yesterday. If Stu didn’t find food soon he would just lay down and die.
“Whoa.” Stu had stopped and Newt plowed into him.
“Shhh, you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay, you?
“Yeah, look over there. There’s food on the table! Come on!” Stu took off running, Newt right behind him. “You take the right, I’ll take the left.”
They slid around the tabletop, finding all sorts of leftovers. Newt found his favorite gravy and dove in, face and all. When he decided to move to the next dish, Stu saw him.
“You’re dripping! Clean up before we leave.” Stu was kinda bossy, but Newt loved his older brother. Stu was one minute older than him.
“I will, keep your shirt on.” Newt had found his second favorite-- mashed potatoes. Hey, I’ll put some taters on my face and go back to sop up the gravy drips! Wow, that’s pretty good. He was on his third trip when Stu hollered.
“Cat! Take cover.” He burrowed under a napkin in the bread bowl. Newt looked around, there was an upside down cup; his shaky hands couldn’t lift it! He forced his wobbly legs to carry him to a glass with a napkin in it; he scampered into it just as Cat’s head came into view. It seemed forever before Cat quit looking for them, ate some gravy and left the room.
“Whew, that was close. Good thing Cat’s old and can’t smell very well. I’m glad we ate enough that our stomachs didn’t growl.” Newt said, still a little shaky. “Let’s eat some more now.” He dived into the mashed potatoes. Stu dived in with him. After eating, Stu was ready to go home. He scooped an olive slice on his tail for a snack later. “Let’s go home.”
Newt saw the olive on his tail “I want one! Just a minute,” Newt stuck his tail into the dish of olives and got two rings on his tail. “I’m gonna have a great snack!”
“The end;” Ms Smythe closed the book. Now, what is this story teaching you children?” She looked for raised hands. “Tom?”
“Not to steal?”
Ms. Smythe nodded. “Carrie?”
“Not to be sloppy.”
“Those are right, however, there’s more.” She looked around the room. ‘’Sam?”
“Well, We also have to eat to keep our souls and spirits alive.”
“Can you tell us how to do that?”
“We do that by reading and hearing the word of God. If we feast on the Word every day, with a snack or two between feasts, we’re learning to act more like Jesus and are doing it with a brain full of the Word. When our brain is full of the Word, we can speak it to other people correctly.”
“So, if we feast by reading at least a chapter or a psalm a day; then just pick out a verse or two to snack on we’ll be full. Now, picture God’s Word coming out of your mouth, running down your chin, and dripping into someone else’s brain.” She saw laughter in each face as they pictured what she’d said. She let them laugh for a minute then held up her hands for silence. “Anyone have a question?” She saw lots of raised hands. “Jim?”
“If it drips into their brain, will they remember it? I sure have a hard time remembering what I read.”
“If it drips in often enough they will. Just like when you read the same verse or chapter over and over, it’ll finally stick and you’ll be able to repeat it without looking. Remember the play we did this spring? You memorized your part by reading and saying. That’s what you do with scriptures. Now, Carrie?”
“Can we put on a play where we talk in scriptures?”
“That’s a great idea. Do you have a story in mind?”
“The last supper or where Martha’s mad at Mary. They’re my favorites right now.”
“We’ll talk about that another day. Our time is up. Be sure and remember to drip the word!” Ms. Smythe watched them leave laughing. “What a satisfying sight!” She exclaimed to no one in particular.
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