A healing message for all time

By Frank L. Smith

I still have the first Bible I ever owned. My mom and dad gave it to me. It's bound in black imitation leather, it has pictures illustrating Bible stories, and the words of Jesus are printed in red letters.

I grew up in a Presbyterian family, and the Bible played a central role in my religious upbringing. I began to attend Sunday School at an early age. I can well recall the names and faces of those dear teachers, one of whom was my dad. They made the Bible stories come alive for us pupils by telling them in language we could understand. Stories of Moses on Mount Sinai getting the Ten Commandments, of David and Goliath, of Daniel in the lions' den. Like Daniel, we, too, could turn to God in danger and expect Him to save us.

I also attended Bible School for two weeks every summer until I went away to college. There, we had fun with all sorts of craft projects, but we also went back time and again to those well-loved Bible stories. Just like in Sunday School, the teachers used them to show us how we should be living here and now.

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