This past Thanksgiving I had a quiet moment, one-on-one, with my fifth-grade grandson before everyone descended for dinner. He transferred this year from a private Christian school to public.
“How do you like your new school?” I asked as I stirred the gravy.
“I like some classes, but some of my teachers take the Lord’s name in vain every day.”
“Really. That’s strange.”
“Some of the kids there have some really wacky ideas. At lunch the other day one girl told me in another life I used to be a tree. I told her I wasn’t.”
“Well, honey, I don’t think it’s any mistake God saw to it that you went to public school this year. I think you’re there to plant some seeds for Jesus.”
“You think so, Grandma?”
“I know so!”
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