The Trek To Calvary

My grandmother was a Sunday school teacher for over 40 years. She proudly wore her perfect attendance pins on her coat and challenged her Sunday school class to beat her perfect record. She taught the “boys” class, a mix of 5 to 8 year olds. My grandmother preferred to teach boys and the ornerier the better. If she had an especially unruly boy in her class she would sometimes suggest the other boys move away from him just in case of a thunder storm for you never knew when God might intervene.

One Easter Sunday around 1955 she was telling her class of disheveled little boys about the crucifixion of Christ. Now my grandmother was a very animated person and when she told a story she used her entire body for visual impact. Sometimes her stories included props just to make the story even more appealing.

On this particular Sunday she came prepared with a crown of grape vines and a toy plastic sword. Grandma stood on one of the child size chairs wearing her crown of thorns and began telling the boys the story of the crucifixion. She told them how the crucifixion of the Lord Jesus Christ was a horrible affair. How He had been tortured, mocked and spat upon through the night and hours preceding His grueling trek to Calvary where nails were driven through His hands and feet. As she told the story her voice trembled and she waved the toy sword above her head. She told them how a crown of thorns was placed upon Christ’s head and how they pierced his side with swords and his flesh was opened. Then at an almost fever pitch she cried out how His back was placed against a wooden cross and the people mocked Him and told Him to come down if He were the Son of God. Just as her story was about to reach its climax one of her young students jumped up from his chair and with arms reaching to heaven yelled, “Well them sons of bitches” of which my grandmother replied without a moment’s hesitation, “Amen”!