Last Sermon

The story of a man's last sermon...

He stood tall and spoke of only that he knew was true. He was a prideful man, but knew when to step down. Today was the day that he would take is bow out and continue life without his ritualistic Sunday sermons. As he stood on the tailgate of his old green pickup truck, he prayed to God that he had made a difference in someone’s life. Every Sunday for the last year he spent outside on the street corner sharing the Gospel of his Lord, Jesus Christ. Rain or shine, hot or cold, every Sunday, he stood up in front of his beloved hometown with his Bible that his mother gave him when he turned eighteen. His weathered hands turned to his chosen scripture and as he lifted his worn face, he saw cars passing by with their drivers doing a double take as if there was some mystical creature lurking behind him. However, on this day, when he raised his face, sitting in the cushy grass in front of his pulpit, was a small child. She was the little girl he saw with her mother all the time at the local grocery story. Her beautiful green eyes beamed up at him. She sat patiently with her hands in her lap waiting on him to start his last sermon. He smiled at the child and opened his Bible. His tired eyes found the page and told the child of the wondrous story of how the Lord, Jesus Christ, died so that she could live in eternal happiness. When he finished his sermon and began to climb down from his pulpit, the little girl stood up, looking confused. She asked one simple question: “Will you be in heaven with me telling me more stories about Jesus?” The old man was not expecting this to come about. However, his answer was just as simple as the little girl’s question. With teary eyes, he looked at her and said, “No, dear child. You and I will be sitting in the grass listening to Jesus tell us his stories himself.” The child smiled and told him a simple, yet meaningful, goodbye. The old man watched the child disappear before climbing into his truck and driving home.

Author's Note

The idea came to me. There was really a man in my hometown that preached every Sunday...also, this was written somewhat quickly, so please ignore grammar mistaked and misspelled words!