Birthdays are always special to me. Especially mine. As a child, Mom would make a special meal and for dessert, cake, of course! My grandpa and grandma would usually be there, journeying some eighty miles. I loved it when my birthday fell on a Sunday. No school with lots of attention at church.
My tenth birthday fell on a Sunday. A brilliant sun was out with deep blue skies. Most early May days were like that. After church on this day, we went to the zoo. I’m certain Mom and Dad gave me a gift. But the one I remember the most–and still possess–was a brand new zippered King James Bible. It had both testaments in it and best of all, lots of pictures. There was one of Adam and Eve being ushered out of the Garden of Eden. Noah and his ark. Daniel in the lion’s den. David killing Goliath. The New Testament featured pictures of Jesus healing the sick. Teaching. Loving children. Dying on the cross. There was a picture of the empty tomb. Many times when my mind wandered at church, I looked at those scenes and never tired of seeing them. I used that Bible all through my childhood. There were notes from sermons I took in my childish scrawl. Growing older, they had a more rounded script, the i’s dotted with circles. And though I don’t use that Bible anymore, it’s right there on the shelf.
Though my birthday is in the spring, many of my immediate family members celebrate their day in the fall. Special days in September are the 11th, 17th, 26th and 30th. October has quite a few, too. 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 9th. Today, September 26 is Bill Rudberg’s birthday. Bill was my husband of forty years and the father of my children.
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