My Childhood Friend, Wes

Mrs. Moore was my second grade teacher, way back in the 60’s. I had difficulty reading then. School, as I remember, just wasn’t very easy.

The experience was even more difficult on the playground though. I experienced the taunting, teasing and even tormenting of others. I would play by myself to avoid the jeers of my classmates.

There have been times when I wondered why I was picked out as the weakling. I was actually small for my age. It wasn’t until I raised some little Quail birds that I realized how bullying takes place at many levels. I hatched a bunch of eggs and early one morning the incubator was overrunning with tiny little birds. Christy, my wife and I moved them to the brooder.

They were fun to watch at first. The little fuzzy birds would run about, almost aimlessly. And when they got tired they would just fall on their faces. They would lie on the bottom of the brooder for a while, till they gained their strength again. And the process would start again. It looked like a cartoon almost. They did this until they grew a bit.

That’s when the bullying began. There was one little bird whose foot didn’t fully develop. He was smaller. He would run in circles, rather than the straight lines. It didn’t take too long till the other birds discovered his vulnerability. Of course we couldn’t watch the birds all the time. We returned to the brooder and the little bird with the different foot was dead. It was obvious that he had been pecked until he died.

There was a time that I felt like the little bird, picked on by others. I never wanted to die. I just wanted to be accepted. I wanted to be included in the play with others. My voice wasn’t strong enough to compete with the threats of the many that picked on me.

That’s when Wes stepped in. To this day, I am grateful for my childhood friend Wes. He was one of those who came from the popular side of town. He had social standing with the other children. And he had strength I didn’t have. I shall never forget what Wes did on the playground. He said, “Leave Jeff alone. If you want to fight him, you have to fight with me first. Don’t lay a hand on him.” I never had another problem, not even into Junior or Senior High.

To this day, each time I talk with Wes, I tell him thank you. The first time I told him thanks for what he did, he didn’t even remember protecting me. I hadn’t thought about it till writing this piece: some of my concern for the least, last and lost may relate way back to the playground at Joyner elementary school.

I thank God for Wes, even till this day. He went on to become a black belt in Karate, even an instructor. He lifted weights too, and muscled up; he looked like his muscles were chiseled out of stone. I actually saw him climb under a little Datsun pickup in a parking lot and grab the rear axle. He bench pressed the truck three times.

Wes’ protection allowed me to experience peace. Wes accepted me for me. He offered security, even justice and mercy so that I didn’t have to worry about bullies anymore.

Wes was like a Christ figure to me. I can see that now. Then I just knew I didn’t have to worry about things with Wes around.

Christ came to be like us, to protect us, and to give us the assurance that he will never leave us or forsake us. He came to offer us peace, even when we are threatened by the bully of the world. He came to take away our fears. He came to offer life, even joy for life.

In the church, we practice this by the way we treat each other, how we encourage each other, and how we support each other. In the safety of the sanctuary, we can find release from the scares and memories of the past as we worship together. Some of us are carrying fears and doubts from years ago. And we can bring those to the altar and leave them there.

I take seriously the role the church plays in helping persons find healing and wholeness. We foster the environment every time we gather here. As we live to be the church, the physical presence of Christ, let us remember the least, the last, and the lost. Let us practice being Christ to those who don’t have someone to speak for them. Let us reflect Christ in our words and our ways.

My prayer today: May someone see Christ in me, as I speak for the least, the last, and the lost.

See you Sunday in the sanctuary, the playground of worship, as we experience the love and grace of Christ,

Jeff