I was always surprised growing up when anyone remembered my name. I thought I was not only anonymous but forgettable, like Charlie Brown, whose dog Snoopy called him “The Round Headed Kid” because he couldn’t remember what his name was. As the third of seven girls, I was one of a crowd. I wasn’t the oldest, I wasn’t the youngest, we all looked pretty much the same, (my distinguishing marks were freckles and dimples,) and I wasn’t the one who usually got into trouble. (You know who you are, Susan.) As long as my grades were good and I came home by dinnertime, my life was really quite pleasant—doing whatever I wanted, within reason. Being anonymous (as I thought) was to my benefit. Unfortunately, in my efforts to keep my grades up, I became known as a good student, and have had to spend the greater part of my life living up to it.

In Sunday School we are learning the parables of Jesus. Among the characters in these parables—from the rich and learned men, the many widows, judges and landowners, the prodigal son, the sower of seeds, the laborers and the servants—the only character Jesus calls by name is Lazarus, a suffering beggar who is not allowed to eat “the crumbs which fell from the rich man’s table.” In this parable, Lazarus dies and is “carried by the angels into Abraham’s bosom: the rich man also died, and was buried; And in hell he lift up his eyes, being in torments, and seeth Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom.” (Luke 16:22-23).

PATTY KENNINGTON-ROOKS is a long-time resident of the western Treasure Valley, and a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She can be reached in care of The Argus Observer, 1160 S.W. Fourth St., Ontario, OR 97914. The Argus Observer weekly faith column features a rotation of writers from many different faiths and perspectives.

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