Glory To God In The Highest . . . Rebuilding The Bridge With Susan And Lilka

For the past several years I have worked toward writing my memoirs. I have shared many of them here. Today I would like to share another such memory. When I am done I will invite you to a much-needed conversation.

I was writing of the summer in 1958. My family arrived from Baton Rouge at our annual Church of God Camp Meeting in Anderson, Indiana. My two brothers and me were playing in an open field across the street from all the church activities. Mom sat on a bench and read while we played. A short time had passed when we noticed a black boy and his little sister were watching. They eased a little closer. We needed a fourth player so one of us asked if he would like to play. The boy, we’ll call him Ben, hopped up off the ground and joined in. We had a great…