Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Bad Christmas Memory #1

Scandinavian Christmas gift-bringer, a Christm...Image via Wikipedia
I guess Wednesday is as good a day as any to talk about my worse Christmas experience. It was my first year in college but not my first away from home. I had lived and worked on my own for a few years before I started college. I actually had spent a year attending a small Bible School in England called Capernwray. That year I ended up in a Chalet in Switzerland with some pretty fun people. No complaints there. But, it was the next year that I must describe at this time.

Attending school in England led me to a small Bible College in South Carolina named Columbia Bible College. My home and family were on the other side of the country and I didn't have the funds to get home for the break. A friend of mind said his family offered to allow me to stay with them. I applied at UPS to work for the Christmas season. I bought the shoes and uniform. I packed some reading materials and my sleeping bag and was set. 

After arriving in the lovely home and meeting the family I settled in for the first night. Before I went to sleep by friends mom explained to me that everyone got up at 6:00am for breakfast so that "father' could read the scriptures to us before he went to work. I should of grabbed my bags and tried to hitch hike to California. So, I spent six weeks waking at 6am for grits and the scriptures. If you haven't had grits, just go to a beach, start to run and trip with your mouth open. You can add eggs, cheese, milk, whatever. 

I hoped that working would help, but, as luck with have it, UPS never called and when I called they said it was one of their slowest years ever and had not called anyone extra yet. Now, when I was young you could beat me to within an inch of my life and it was like water of a ducks back. But, put me in a room all by myself for longer than 5 minutes...that was torture! 

Now, my friend was a great guy, a model son. But, his mom rode him like he was a possible life time criminal. Every choice that poor kid made was wrong according to his mom. He couldn't pick out a shirt without enduring some harassment and being ridiculed because blue was obviously better than white on a Tuesday (if I was exaggerating that would be funny). I thought to myself that if this poor kid didn't just snap one day and kill everyone in the house I would be surprised. Two years later he quit school, started dressing all dark and decided he was gay. Mom, probably has no clue she drove him insane. 

That was not a great Christmas. The next year I made sure I made it home. There is no place like home for the holidays.
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