Junie B.

We need to take a break from political and theological discussions, don't you think? At Mike Cope's Blog there is a wee bit of mud slinging and a LOT of passion on Mike's stance on certain theological points. At Amanda's Diary of a Transplant Patient (I started to call her my friend Amanda -- and she is even though I only have seen her in that precious picture on her blog) Amanda brings up a great question regarding the health and wealth gospel. My brain is tired. Let's do a little juvenile fiction reading, shall we?

If you haven't had someone you love in first grade in the last 5-7 years, you may not know Junie B. Junie B. Jones, that is. She is a mess. A fictional character, and quite a character. Author Barbara Park does a fabulous job of having Junie B. wear her feelings on her sleeve with words of a first grader. In the book "Junie B. Jones and that Meanie Jim's Birthday" Junie has just left a party in her classroom. She and her friend Grace are riding home on the bus talking about how great the party was when "a meanie boy named Jim" jumped into the conversation. Jim and Junie B. begin arguing about who can have the best party and "that meanie Jim" is elaborating on what a great party HE will have. Junie B. concludes a tirade about how that wouldn't be a great party with :

"And so I wouldn't even come to your stupid party in a jillion billion
years."
"Good!" hollered that Jim. "I'm glad! 'Cause my
birthday is this coming Saturday! And tomorrow I'm bringing invitations to
every single person in Room Nine! Only not to you! You're the only
one in the whole class I'm not bringing an invitation to! So there!"
Then he did a big HAH! right in my face.
And he sat back down in his seat.
Meanwhile, I just kept on standing and standing
there. 'Cause something had gone a little bit wrong here, I think.
I tapped on his head.
"Yeah, only here's the thing," I said. "I
didn't actually know you were having a party on Saturday. And so, good
news. . . I think I can make it."
"No!" shouted that meanie boy. "You're not
coming! Now go away!"
I tapped on him again.
"Yeah, only I was just kidding about the ponies,"
I said. "They hardly even stomple you probably."
"I don't care! Stop bothering me!" he
shouted.
I stood on my tippy-toes and looked at his
head.
"Love your hair today," I said.
That Jim swatted at me.
"Get away from me!" he hollered. "You're not
coming to my party! And that's final!"
Just then a big lump came in my throat. A
big lump is what comes before crying.
It hurt to swallow.
I sat down and hided my face in my sweater.
"Darn it, " I said. "'Cause I think I really
would have enjoyed myself at that thing."
Then my bestest friend named Grace put her arm
around me.
And she patted me real gentle.
And she let me sit next to the window. (end of
chapter 2)

Do you just love Grace in this? Grace sat right there while Junie B. got in huge trouble with her mouth (which is why I identify with Junie B.) Then she was there while Junie B. tried to get out of trouble. When Junie B. failed at getting out of trouble Grace could only pat and let Junie B. sit by the window. My friend Roxanne (signs her posts 'R-') is a patter. I confess I have yelled at her about it, too (remember I've known Roxanne through my worst days -- like high school!) I think the root cause of me not liking it is because she really does have great timing with her pats -- which would mean they would bring the tears I was working so hard to stop. Roxanne would have let me sit by the window, too.