Burnt Cabin

 

                     Back when I was a teenager the youth group at Dewey church of Christ went to Burnt 

Cabin one weekend.  I thought it sounded like fun, so I went along to tag along.  Fred (Dewey church 

of Christ's Youth Minister) got Dad's permission before taking me (since I usually attended Nowata for 

services).  Dad was not told I'd need money for the trip though, we just assumed the church would pay 

for it all.

                     On the way down we stopped at a convenient store.   The rest of the kids got out of the 

van to get something, but I had no money, so I got nothing.  All the rest of the teens came back with 

their treasures of food and sodas. I was hurt, embarrassed, and angry, so I yelled out calling them 

"WhiteTrash".  Truth be known I was probably closer to being "White Trash" than they were.  In 

reality, the term "rich snob" would have fit them better.

                     That evening Fred was trying to teach the teens the lesson of the Good Samaritan.  So, he 

asked for volunteers to be actors.  I had taken Drama in high school so I thought I could do it.  Fred 

chose me to be the person who got beat up.  I did not mind this, but the blows were not play blows.  

They were physical harsh blows to whatever part of the body they could find.  Once the play was over

two of my friends got me out of there.

                   They took me up to bed, and let me know those two boys were not playing they were out to

kill me.  The two Youth Ministers who were there had a word about me with the youth.  The Youth 

Ministers told them that I was dirt poor, and did not have much, that I needed Christian friends in life 

not enemies.  The punches were supposed to be pretend punches not hard thrusts.

                      The teens went to sleep that night and awoke to a pleasant Sunday, Oklahoma morning.

The birds even sang oh so sweetly as I had slept the night through and awoke to a new day,

Paul D. Eccles