Jeremy was born with a twisted body and a slow
mind. At the age of 12 he was still in
second grade, seemingly unable to learn.
His teacher, Doris Miller, often became
exasperated with him. He would squirm in his
seat, drool, and make grunting noises. At
other times, he spoke clearly and distinctly, as
if a spot of light had penetrated the darkness of
his brain. Most of the time, however,
Jeremy just irritated his teacher.
One day she called his parents and asked them to
come in for a consultation. As the
Forresters entered the empty classroom, Doris
said to them, "Jeremy really belongs in a
special school. It isn't fair to him to be
with younger children who don't have learning
problems. Why, there is a five year gap
between his age and that of the other students."
Mrs. Forrester cried softly into a tissue, while
her husband spoke. "Miss Miller," he said,
"there is no school of that kind nearby. It
would be a terrible shock for Jeremy if we had to
take him out of this school. We know he
really likes it here." Doris sat for a long
time after they had left, staring at the snow
outside the window. Its coldness seemed to
seep into her soul. She wanted to
sympathize with the Forresters. After all,
their only child had a terminal illness.
But it
wasn't fair to keep him in her class. She
had 18 other youngsters to teach, and Jeremy was
a distraction. Furthermore, he would never
learn to read and write. Why waste any more
time trying?
As she pondered the situation, guilt washed over
her. Here I am complaining when my problems
are nothing compared to that poor family, she
thought. Lord, please help me to be more
patient with Jeremy. From that day on, she
tried hard to ignore Jeremy's noises and his
blank stares. Then one day, he limped to
her desk, dragging his bad leg behind him.
"I love you, Miss Miller," he exclaimed, loud
enough for the whole class to hear. The
other students snickered, and Doris' face turned
red. She stammered, "Wh-why that's very
nice, Jeremy. N-now please take your seat."
Spring came, and the children talked excitedly
about the coming of Easter. Doris told them
the story of Jesus, and then to emphasize the
idea of new life springing forth, she gave each
of the children a large plastic egg. "Now,"
she said to them, "I want you to take this
home and bring it back tomorrow with something
inside that shows new life. Do you
understand?"
"Yes, Miss Miller," the children responded
enthusiastically-all except for Jeremy. He
listened intently; his eyes never left her face.
He did not even make his usual noises. Had
he understood what she had said about Jesus'
death and resurrection? Did he understand
the assignment? Perhaps she should call his
parents and explain the project to them.
That evening, Doris' kitchen sink stopped up.
She called the landlord and waited an hour for
him to come by and unclog it. After that,
she still had to shop for groceries, iron a
blouse, and prepare a vocabulary test for the
next day. She completely forgot about
phoning Jeremy's parents.
The next morning, 19 children came to school,
laughing and talking as they placed their eggs in
the large wicker basket on Miss Miller's desk.
After they completed their math lesson, it was
time to open the eggs. In the first egg,
Doris found a flower. "Oh yes, a flower is
certainly a sign of new life," she said.
"When plants peek through the ground, we know
that spring is here."
A small girl in the first row waved her arm.
"That's my egg, Miss Miller," she called out.
The next egg contained a plastic butterfly, which
looked very real. Doris held it up.
"We all know that a caterpillar changes and grows
into a beautiful butterfly. Yes, that's new
life, too."
Little Judy smiled proudly and said, "Miss
Miller, that one is mine." Next, Doris
found a rock with moss on it. She explained
that moss, too, showed life. Billy spoke up
from the back of the classroom, "My daddy
helped me," he beamed.
Then Doris opened the fourth egg. She
gasped. The egg was empty. Surely it
must be Jeremy's she thought, and of course, he
did not understand her instructions. If
only she had not forgotten to phone his parents.
Because she did not want to embarrass him, she
quietly set the egg aside and reached for
another. Suddenly, Jeremy spoke up.
"Miss Miller, aren't you going to talk about my
egg?"
Flustered, Doris replied, "But Jeremy, your
egg is empty."
He looked into her eyes and said softly,
"Yes, but Jesus' tomb was empty, too."
Time stopped. When she could speak again,
Doris asked him, "Do you know why the tomb
was empty?"
"Oh, yes," Jeremy said, "Jesus was killed
and put in there. Then His Father raised
Him up."
The recess bell rang. While the children
excitedly ran out to the school yard, Doris
cried. The cold inside her melted
completely away.
Three months later, Jeremy died. Those who
paid their respects at the mortuary were
surprised to see 19 eggs on top of his casket,
all of them empty.
Happy Easter!
-- Author Unknown
