Chrissy's Home (Part I)
She stuck out like a lily among thorns, when she sprung up in
the midst of the Baptist Student Union. All eyes were on her, as she raised her
hands and lifted up her eyes with her voice. Chrissy signed and swayed in
reverence and awe of God's presence. Although some thought she was acting
irreverently, I knew Jesus was the treasure of her heart and that He was pleased
with her.
Chrissy was one of the most unconventional Christians I met in
college. She wore snug faded blue jeans with the knees out and an over
washed, green, sleeveless army shirt. She was very petite and fair-skinned with
thin cherry lips and rosy cheeks. Her hair was long, brown and frizzy, usually
worn in a ponytail and matched by her thick eyebrows haloing her innocent blue
eyes, which lit up as she ran and bounced around campus barefoot.
Her feet were so cute and tiny; they took my breath away and made
my heart pound, especially her right foot. It was like lead on the gas pedal. That
tender child would become another woman behind the wheel, and I always felt
as if I was in a centrifuge.
Once, on our way to church, she was traveling 70 miles per hour
around sharp curves and over unarmed railroad tracks. All the way there, she
was smiling that patented smile that had won the hearts of many and oscillating
her head from side to side to the music, as the truck jerked from left to right and
seemed to ride on two wheels.
My eyes were enlarged. Apparently, Chrissy figured out that I was
frightened when she noticed my locked jaw and gritting teeth; as my left hand
clawed the cracked vinyl seat, my right gripped the armrest on the door.
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