When I was four, I thought that Jesus was a ghostly figure, haunting our town. We lived in a rural area where the names of the towns were things like Bethlehem, Calvary, Canaan, Palmyra, Maranatha etc. Just before Easter vacation, our teacher spent the day telling us all about a man named Jesus, who came from Bethlehem. She went into great detail about how he was nailed to a cross in Calvary and how his flesh was ripped and torn and bleeding. Then she went on to say that he was buried "under a big stone"...but then when his grave was opened....it was EMPTY...so he got out somehow.
I recall being absolutely terrified, thinking this was a local man who had been murdered in a horrible fashion, and who was now walking the streets of Somerset County. I told my mother about this, and she just told me to stop being ridiculous, but didn't offer to explain anything. I had to figure it all out on my own. I guess she thought I was just born knowing about the Resurrection story.
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