{"id":32364,"date":"2017-12-21T06:36:34","date_gmt":"2017-12-21T06:36:34","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/karyncanteesstagg.com\/?p=32364"},"modified":"2023-08-04T16:57:25","modified_gmt":"2023-08-04T16:57:25","slug":"jesus-goes-viral","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/karyncanteesstagg.com\/2017\/12\/21\/jesus-goes-viral\/","title":{"rendered":"Jesus Goes Viral"},"content":{"rendered":"
<\/div>
<\/span><\/div>

The fictional sequel to “The Gift of\u00a0Christmas.”<\/i><\/p>\n

This is definitely the place for an interrogation. I look up into the warmth of the crackling, florescent lights beating down like menacing rays from a hovering, intergalactic space ship. Couldn\u2019t hide anything in here if I wanted.<\/p>\n

Waiting is the worst. I realize my heels are tapping the floor and immediately stop. Then start. I need to distract myself. I push up from the gray metal folding chair.<\/p>\n

As I turn, I count nine tall windows covered with opened white blinds that line the front wall. My hands gravitate to my pockets as I walk to the left, to the largest of the oversized glass panes. The principal\u2019s perch, we call it. Currently it reveals a parade of students leaving the building this late afternoon.<\/p>\n

This was my second chance. I got it all wrong the first time. My assignment?\u2014Interview and write an article about a person I know. I wrote about Jesus. My teacher said it was superficial, poorly written, and with a person I couldn\u2019t know<\/em>. I admit it was a last-minute, really bad effort on my part, but I\u2019d protested that I did know Jesus! Just when I thought I\u2019d flunked the paper, she threw me a lifeline: \u201cGet a Christmas interview with Jesus and we\u2019ll see how you fare.\u201d Almost her exact words. Maybe she said it because it was Christmas, or maybe she didn\u2019t think I could. But, I did. Though no one believes me. I walk around the room full of oak, imagining how different it would be if they did.<\/p>\n

Dad is a weekend woodworker so I notice the dark oak bookshelves intersecting with the high ceilings. I run my finger across a row of books with titles I don\u2019t understand. Nothing about Jesus or Christmas.<\/em>\u00a0A colorful Native American rug covering the oaken floors and student artwork dotting the walls, sort of brightens up the cheerless room. I stop to look down into a lineup of pictures facing outward atop the principal\u2019s heirloom desk. If it weren\u2019t for the white stucco walls and the horror stories that come from behind the door I\u2019m currently behind, it might feel cozy. Might. Not my first trip here, but never under these circumstances.<\/p>\n

I walk to the door to try and listen. Abruptly, it opens, almost smashing my face. I jump back to see my teacher, Miss Hazelnut, followed by my Dad, followed by the principal, Mr. Strong. Oh boy. The whole herd<\/em>.<\/p>\n

Suddenly the large room closes around me. Miss Hazelnut says I should sit in front of the desk Mr. Strong now looms behind. Dad is next to me and she is adjacent to Mr. Strong.<\/p>\n

I sit down, facing all those smiling picture frame faces, not knowing what to expect. Dad frowns, but pats my shoulder. A good sign, I guess. He has a manila envelope and a white paper sack. I smell food.<\/p>\n

\u201cMatthew, I hated to keep you waiting.” Mr. Strong seems larger than usual. “But some of us had to read the so-called interview you wrote, which, while intriguing, is rather perplexing.\u201d<\/p>\n

I simply nod.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you have to say for yourself?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m glad you found it intriguing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMatthew, you\u2019re in a lot of trouble. I hope you\u2019re taking this seriously.\u201d He wears the same stern look when putting my friend Joey Romano in detention about once a week. I sort of gulp.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know what to say, Mr. Strong. I did exactly what I said I\u2019d do. Exactly what I was asked.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo you\u2019re sticking to your story that Jesus told you this?\u201d He glances at my dad.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes sir. He did.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, it\u2019s a good interview, I\u2019ll give you that. I was rather taken by it even though it can\u2019t possibly be true.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy sir?\u201d Okay, maybe I shouldn\u2019t ask, but<\/em> . . . \u201cWhy can\u2019t it be true?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMatthew, even if it were true, why would Jesus speak to you?\u201d His tone falls between sarcasm and \u2018don\u2019t backtalk\u2019 me. \u201cWhy wouldn\u2019t he more likely descend on some renowned preacher or teacher?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, He said He came to keep me honest. So I could keep my word to Miss Hazelnut. About interviewing Him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cReally? You do find it odd, don\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI did until He explained it. Then it made perfect sense.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mr. Strong looks at Miss Hazelnut. She rises, but sits back down. \u201cMatthew, I didn\u2019t tell you to interview Jesus, that would\u2019ve been a global stretch. Your original assignment was to interview a known person in your life or the community, letting us learn details about the person\u2019s life.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know, Miss Hazelnut, but you gave me a second chance, a Christmas interview with Jesus. And besides, He is a known person in my life. I talk to him several times a day.\u201d<\/p>\n

She purses her lips. \u201cAnd He replies to you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, hardly ever. Not with words anyway. But sometimes I feel His presence and other times I just know He\u2019s with me.\u201d<\/p>\n

She turns her pouty mouth toward the principal. \u201cI\u2019ve never known Jesus to give a press conference. Have you Mr. Strong?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mr. Strong taps some papers, ignoring her sarcasm, looking at my dad. \u201cWhat about you, Mr. Davies? Do you believe what your son wrote is true?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI believe my son, sir. He doesn\u2019t lie. He may have gotten some mixed messages, but clearly that paper sounds like someone who had some kind of a talk with Jesus.\u201d<\/p>\n

Miss Hazelnut chimes in, \u201cMr. Davies, while this is probably the most well-written paper to come across my desk in years, it\u2019s not authentic. It\u2019s fiction! Who has talks like this with Jesus today? I mean, who ever had talks with Jesus? And, the clarity of the sentences and the word choices are dumbfounding.\u201d Her voice stirs with emotion before calmly stating, \u201cI think it could be plagiarized.\u201d<\/p>\n

“You think Matthew stole the interview?\u201d Dad has a death grip on the edge of his chair.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Davies, Matthew is twelve. He\u2019s in seventh grade. There may be a senior who could write this, but this is college or graduate level material. Maybe even higher.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mr. Strong looks over at me. \u201cMatthew, sit on the sofa in the outside office and I\u2019ll call you back in shortly.\u201d<\/p>\n

I rise to go, but turn. \u201cI wrote every word of that paper. The views weren\u2019t mine, I couldn\u2019t have come up with them, so believe it or not, I interviewed Jesus.\u201d And then I leave to silence.<\/p>\n

From this outer sanctum, I can\u2019t hear anything inside. I walk to the hall and see my friend Tommy standing by the water fountain. He walks over.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy\u2019re you hanging around old man Strong\u2019s pod?\u201d He\u2019s shifting the books in the book bag on his back.<\/p>\n

\u201cMiss Hazelnut thinks I plagiarized an assignment so I\u2019m in a bit of trouble.\u201d I look around the mostly empty hall.<\/p>\n

“Has he seen you yet?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s in with my Dad now.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tommy glares at me. \u201cYou\u2019re not in a bit of trouble, pal! You\u2019re in a lot of trouble. What\u2019d you write?\u201d<\/p>\n

“I interviewed Jesus.”<\/p>\n

Tommy grabs his chest, starts laughing, and stops two guys who just stepped out of the library. \u201cMatthew here thinks he\u2019s in a bit of trouble because he interviewed Jesus.\u201d<\/p>\n

The tall guy walks up to me. \u201cHey, I know you. I was in class when Miss Hazelnut called you a liar for saying you\u2019d interviewed Jesus.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe never called me a liar.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe didn\u2019t believe you and neither do I!\u201d He hits my shoulder with the palm of his hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t care what you believe. I know what happened.\u201d My voice is an octave higher.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs Jesus speaking to you now?\u201d He taunts me. \u201cJesus speaker!\u201d He points at me laughing. \u201cWho you going to hear from next, God Almighty?\u201d Mr. Strong comes rushing out of his office.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is all this noise? Matthew you\u2019re supposed to be on the sofa. The other three of you, get going before I give you detention.\u201d<\/p>\n

They take off fast. Tommy looks back and shrugs.<\/p>\n

Mr. Strong guides me by my shoulder. \u201cAren\u2019t you in enough trouble, Matthew? Trying to make it worse for yourself?\u201d I head to the uncomfortable sofa, but Mr. Strong says, \u201cBack in my office. We\u2019re ready for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dad turns as I enter. His expression is the same one he had when I gave my brother Jeffy a mud bath four summers ago.<\/p>\n

\u201cMatthew.\u201d Miss Hazelnut sits on the front edge of her seat. \u201cIf you wrote this piece, explain\u00a0this? I understand your premise of how God created the galaxy–I disagree, but I understand–but what is this about Jesus and God \u2018riding intergalactic flows?\u2019 And it\u2019s floes<\/em>, with an e<\/em>, by the way, not flow<\/em>, with a w<\/em>.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh, sorry. I just wrote what I heard.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy is that in here, Matthew? I\u2019m not familiar with the Bible, particularly, but I\u2019ve never heard this story before.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know! Me either. I thought it sounded really, really cool and that\u2019s why I included it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe point, Matthew, is where did the information even come from?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFrom Jesus. Everything came from Jesus.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, he told you he and his Dad traveled around on intergalactic floes, even though he could probably traverse the entire galaxy in the blink of an eye?\u201d<\/p>\n

I look at my scruffy brown shoes. \u201cYes, ma\u2019am. He said they had a lot of fun.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her sigh is pure disgust. \u201cMr. Strong, see why I\u2019m so upset? This is some sort of forgery or religious promotion by Matthew and perhaps others.\u201d<\/p>\n

My dad leans forward. \u201cSee here, Miss Hazelnut. I understand you may not believe this paper. It\u2019s difficult to understand how Matthew could write something so profound, but I know he didn\u2019t copy this. From anywhere! And no one worked on it with him.\u201d He looks at me, pleading. \u201cFess up now if this isn\u2019t one-hundred percent your project, son.\u201d<\/p>\n

Everything seems to stop. I look at Miss Hazelnut and Mr. Strong, their expressions so stern. I turn and look my dad square in the eyes. \u201cDad, I swear, I wrote that paper, and I wrote it all by myself.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI believe you did, Matt. Good job.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, that settles it for you, Mr. Davies?\u201d Miss Hazelnut\u2019s voice actually cracks.<\/p>\n

Dad kind of wiggles his eyebrows up and down and says, \u201cWhat would satisfy it for you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere aren\u2019t enough hours in the day for me to consider that. In the meantime, Matthew will receive an F on the assignment. He\u2019s clearly broken a code of conduct!\u201d She sucks in significant amounts of air. \u201cMr. Strong?\u201d<\/p>\n

The tall wiry principal, unlike his name, has glasses shoved atop a wild mane of brown and white hair. \u201cYes, yes, most possibly,\u201d he says. \u201cConsider the truth of this, Matthew. I\u2019ll reduce the punishment for the truth. Plagiarism is a serious ethics charge.\u201d Expectation fills his eyes for a few brief seconds as he watches me and then turns to dad. \u201cPerhaps we should meet again.\u201d<\/p>\n

I nod and look down. Dad rises, but doesn\u2019t reach to shake hands. He offers the white bag to Miss Hazelnut. \u201cI stopped and bought us some scones on the way. Perhaps the two of you will enjoy them while you talk.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat isn\u2019t necessary,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n

Dad ignores her and nudges me in front of him. I rise and we turn to leave. \u201cMr. Strong,\u201d Dad nods toward the Principal, \u201cI agree that we should meet again. We\u2019ll look forward to it.\u201d<\/p>\n

——————————–<\/p>\n

Silence rests on us like a morning fog as we head to the car. It\u2019s hard not to feel sorry for myself. Jesus\u2019 visit is probably the greatest thing that\u2019ll ever happen to me, but I can\u2019t prove it. The only person who can is as near as my breath, but might as well be on Mars. I should\u2019ve come clean with dad the night I saw Him. But, he wouldn\u2019t have believed me. I sigh. Jesus, I could use some help here<\/em>.<\/p>\n

As soon as our seat belts snap in the car, Dad says, \u201cMatthew, there are many ways to be in touch with Jesus. I\u2019d like to know how it happened?\u201d<\/p>\n

I start praying, Jesus<\/i>, give<\/i>\u00a0me something Dad will believe. Please!<\/em> I know Dad thinks I\u2019m stalling and I guess I am. \u201cDad, me and Jesus have a . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJesus and I,\u201d he corrects me. \u201cMatthew, how did you write that remarkable paper when you use seventh grade grammar?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDad, Jesus and I have a special relationship. I asked him questions and He helped me write what He wanted me to hear.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd He told you how He and the Father created the universe and that heaven is outside of time?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes sir. How else would I know?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know Matthew. It\u2019s hard to grasp. As Miss Hazelnut stated, Jesus doesn\u2019t generally give press conferences.\u201d<\/p>\n

——————————<\/p>\n

That night I prayed about my fears and what I should do. \u201cLord, an F would give\u00a0me a C in the class and I guess I deserve that. I didn’t do things right the first time, and only got a second chance because of Miss Hazelnut. But, what If Mr. Strong expels me because he thinks I plagiarized my paper? Please help me, Jesus?\u201d<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t know why I do this, but I reach for my computer lying against my bed. Sitting up, I open it and squint as the dark room floods with light. Hope Mom or Dad don\u2019t come in.<\/em> I Google Jesus pictures<\/em> and browse through tons of brown haired, mostly white, anxious looking or meditating Jesus\u2019s.<\/p>\n

Nothing looks like the real Jesus\u2014relaxed, handsome, and with a beautiful smile. He wasn\u2019t
\nfretting about the world, He was just with me. I eliminate all the posed and serene photographs and choose a picture of Baby Jesus. That\u2019s what Christmas is about anyway.<\/em> One by one, I pull up my social media\u2014Facebook, Instagram, Twitter\u2014and I post Baby \"\"<\/a>Jesus. Under it I write: I\u2019m in 7th grade and wrote a paper about a Christmas interview I had with Jesus. He actually spoke to me, but no one believes me. Now I may get expelled. Do you believe Jesus speaks to us today?<\/em> I attach my story.<\/p>\n

After Mom awakens me the next morning, I take my shower and head to breakfast. At the table, Dad is quiet. No mention of my paper. Jeffy is jabbering about a girl who hits him with a ruler, which would normally incense Dad, but he just tells him to defend himself. Mom keeps after Jeffy to eat with his mouth shut.<\/p>\n

The phone rings and Mom answers it. \u201cHello.\u201d Long pause<\/em>. \u201cWhat? . . . uh huh . . . uh huh. . . Are you certain? I\u2019m not even sure I know what that means.\u201d<\/p>\n

She turns to me, not at all happy. Must be the school<\/em>.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh dear, Lord! Really?\u201d She\u2019s frowning at me now. \u201cOkay, thanks for calling.\u201d She hangs up and looks at dad before walking to me. \u201cWhat exactly have you done?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI . . . I don\u2019t know what you mean.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoey\u2019s mother, Marilyn, says you\u2019ve gone viral.\u201d<\/p>\n

I suck in my breath and look down. Could<\/i> it<\/i> possibly<\/i> be<\/i>?\u00a0Such a tiny, short-lived thing I did before going to bed I\u2019d forgotten.<\/em> I look at my cereal and blueberries. Dad is going to kill me.<\/em> Could I possibly go viral in less than eight hours?<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s this all about, Matthew?\u201d Dad is stirring his eggs in his plate, looking at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cI ya. . . I uh, I posted my paper on line last night before going to bed.\u201d I gulp. \u201cI\u2019m sorry. It never occurred to me that more than just a few of my friends would see it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMatthew, you\u2019re a smart boy. You knew exactly what might happen if you posted that paper.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, honest!\u201d I look to Mom. \u201cHas it really gone viral?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou tell me!\u201d She shoves her phone in my face.<\/p>\n

I check Facebook. 17.1K \u201clikes\u201d and over 11K comments. I actually gasp. Seeing my reaction, she covers her mouth. I check Instagram and Twitter. Thousands of hits and rising. What have I done?<\/em><\/p>\n

I look at Dad. \u201cI can\u2019t go to school today. I\u2019ll be in all kinds of trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow many hits?\u201d His face is sort of pink.<\/p>\n

\u201cOver seventeen thousand just on Facebook.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re going. And I don\u2019t want you responding to any of them. Do you hear me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat should I do, Dad?\u201d Tears form in my eyes. \u201cI really, really didn\u2019t mean for this to happen.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dad has pushed his plate aside and hands me his phone. \u201cPull up your Facebook account.\u201d<\/p>\n

It isn\u2019t a request.<\/p>\n

His eyes widen as he reads. Finally, he says, \u201cMatthew, what you wrote isn\u2019t honest. You make it sound like you could get expelled because you wrote about Jesus. That may be partly true, but it\u2019s mostly because the paper is written above your ability. Not because of content.\u201d He shakes his head. \u201cDo you understand? Miss Hazelnut and Mr. Strong will think you\u2019re trying to instigate something. And frankly I\u2019m wondering myself.\u201d He holds his hand over his mouth. \u201cThe numbers keep rising.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do I do, Dad?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRide it out. Pay the consequences. There\u2019s no time to discuss this now, but this evening we will.\u201d The words are kind compared to his reddened face and gruff voice. He walks his mostly uneaten food to the sink. \u201cIf your teachers see this, tell them what you told me and prepare to be expelled. I want you telling the truth, regardless. That\u2019s non-negotiable.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

——————————-<\/p>\n

Since phones aren\u2019t allowed at school, my friend Joey is the mouthpiece. No one would\u2019ve known what was happening if he and two buddies hadn\u2019t come nonstop blabbing to me in home room about the post that is likely going viral. \u201cTwenty-eight thousand and counting!\u201d He’s smiling and carrying his laptop.<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease, guys, just drop it, okay? I\u2019m in so much trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ll be famous, though,\u201d says Joey, trying to lighten my mood.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t want to be famous, okay. Just drop it. I mean it. You want me to get expelled? Drop it now!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, okay.\u201d Joey slaps the laptop shut.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe don\u2019t want you expelled,\u201d says Bryan, \u201cbut, it\u2019s not going away regardless.\u201d<\/p>\n

Those words prove true. The principal calls me to his office during math, about 11 a.m.<\/p>\n

Tell the truth. Tell the truth.<\/em> I say it a hundred times as I shuffle along the gray tiled floors lined with black lockers. When I get to the office, I just stand and look at the door knob. I see Miss Carolyn, the secretary, through the glass pane and she eventually waves me in.<\/p>\n

\u201cHi Matthew,\u201d she smiles as I enter.<\/p>\n

\u201cHi Miss Carolyn.\u201d I look at my feet.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou nervous?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, ma\u2019am. I don\u2019t know what\u2019s happened in my life lately.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019d do well to just tell the truth. Mr. Strong is a good man. But if you lie to him, there\u2019ll be no saving grace for you. Know what I mean?\u201d<\/p>\n

I nod.<\/p>\n

\u201cWait here. I\u2019ll see if he\u2019s ready for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

I pace across the room a few times before the door opens. \u201cCome on in. He\u2019ll see you now.\u201d<\/p>\n

I walk past Miss Carolyn, wanting to turn and run.<\/p>\n

Mr. Strong motions me to the obligatory folding chair in front of his desk. Nice comfy-looking cloth chairs rest against the wall, and I wonder if anyone ever sits in them.<\/p>\n

\u201cMatthew,\u201d he starts, not hesitating. \u201cYou continue to put me in a bind.\u201d<\/p>\n

I sort of nod, knowingly.<\/p>\n

\u201cI saw the story online. Did someone put you up to posting it?\u00a0Maybe someone in your family? And I warn you, I want the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n

I scoot to the front of my chair. \u201cMr. Strong, I can\u2019t believe you think that. My family is really upset. So, no! Mom and Dad found out this morning and told me if I was called to your office to tell the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n

He looks as thoughtful as the Jesus pictures. \u201cI believe you. But, Matthew, you and I both know you didn\u2019t write that story. You don\u2019t have the intellectual capacity. You must tell me how it happened.\u201d<\/p>\n

I wish I could stop, but I cry. \u201cMr. Strong, I swear I wrote that story. Why can\u2019t anyone believe me? Supernatural things happened all through the Bible. Does everyone think Jesus just disappeared, that supernatural things don\u2019t happen today? Jesus gave me the information and He helped me remember it and write it. I\u2019m sure of it.\u201d I sniffle through my words. \u201cI know I\u2019m not that smart either, Mr. Strong, but I was so proud to write that paper.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMatthew, how did you do your research?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t do any research. All the material was given to me. Honest.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd no one prompted you to put it online?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo sir. I\u2019m sorry I did that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd what about the fact that you\u2019ve misled people into believing you may be expelled simply because no one believes you? No mention that the story is written in almost literary prose!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m so sorry, Mr. Strong. I kind of got in an argument about the paper in the hall yesterday. You know, right before you came out to get me. I think I posted the story to see if anyone believed Jesus still spoke to people today.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mr. Strong\u2019s face is almost as red as my dad\u2019s was. \u201cMatthew, Jesus didn\u2019t tell me not to expel you, so you\u2019re expelled for a week, even if you come to your senses. Personally, I don\u2019t believe you acted alone. If your parents have a problem, tell them to take it to the board.\u201d He stands up. \u201cCall someone to come and get you.\u201d<\/p>\n

——————————————<\/p>\n

Except for eating, I\u2019m stuck in my room for a week. No phone, but at least I can keep my laptop. Dad was angry when he picked me up, yet he understands this is a phenomenon I can\u2019t control. It\u2019s spread like wildfire. Been shared and uploaded to blogs, to websites, even personal pages. I\u2019ve seen it on tech and political blogs. Completely out of my hands. He\u2019ll allow me to watch, but I can\u2019t respond.<\/p>\n

Hits have risen to an unfathomable 1.1M, as in million, and counting by 4 p.m. I pace back and forth in my small room. I Google, \u201cWhat is considered viral?\u201d Two million hits used to be considered viral. Today it\u2019s five million.<\/em> At this pace . . .<\/p>\n

Dad\u2019s mad, but I think he likes that people are taking my side. A few have mentioned separation of church and state, but they\u2019re quickly reminded of the law. And the law says students can write what they choose, if it\u2019s within class guidelines.<\/p>\n

Mom gets home from work and throws her purse on my bed, ranting. Her favorite disc jockey was speculating as to why a local boy<\/em> would get expelled for writing a story about Jesus. She said he called the school. Got a \u201cno comment.\u201d The ringing phone all afternoon might\u2019ve been him. Or the neighbors. Geez,<\/em> I wonder who else might get wind of this? <\/em><\/p>\n

Dinner is pretty much a row. The television blares the evening news; Dad\u2019s upset I was expelled without a promised second meeting; Mom\u2019s distressed because the neighbors are calling; and Jeffy\u2019s in heaven. Not literally, but his big brother is becoming famous, and by extension, he\u2019s in the whirlwind. It also takes the pressure off him.<\/p>\n

None of us have spoken about the particulars of the fiasco. I figured that was about to change, when the phone rings as we are clearing the dishes. The local NBC affiliate\u2019s prime showman, weatherman, and interviewer, Charming Mel, or rather Mel\u2019s assistant, wants to talk to me on the phone. Dad tells her no<\/i>. \u201cLook,\u201d he says, \u201cit\u2019s true my son was expelled because of a paper he wrote about Jesus, but it wasn\u2019t because of the subject matter, particularly, although that was part of it. The biggest problem was because it was written much more intelligently than a seventh grader can write. So, there\u2019s no story here.\u201d<\/p>\n

The assistant counters, \u201cBut your son claimed to interview Jesus.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d says my dad, \u201cbut people talk to Jesus every day.\u201d He hangs up and turns to us. \u201cThat should put it to rest.\u201d<\/p>\n

We all sit with gaping mouths. \u201cYou shouldn\u2019t have said anything, Doug. He\u2019ll quote you,\u201d says Mom.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot much of a story there according to what I said.\u201d<\/p>\n

But Dad is wrong.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s Charming Mel!” Jeffy is\u00a0pointing to the television above the kitchen island\u00a0not fifteen minutes later. Dish rags fall to the counter as we scurry next to my brother. Mel is surrounded by a group of Christmas return shoppers in a mall. After telling them that I am now expelled (Dad shakes his head) for writing an interview about Jesus, he proceeds to read them this paragraph from my story:<\/p>\n

\u201cJesus\u2019 aura surrounded me. A magical quality that made my heart beat a little faster and goose bumps shimmer across my skin. I felt both His love and his desire to help me, one no more present than the other. \u201cI\u2019m always with you, Matthew,\u201d He seemed to say, \u201ceach morning when you pray or just at times when you need me.\u201d His presence empowered me with love. He didn\u2019t come just because I was desperate to write His interview, but because His love was too overpowering to ignore my need. He feels the same about all of us.\u201d<\/p>\n

When Mel finishes, everyone sighs. And then he asks: \u201cSo, should this boy be expelled from school for saying he interviewed Jesus?\u201d<\/p>\n

Absolutely not,\u201d all agree. \u201cOf course not! No!\u201d And then Mel asks if any of them have had encounters with Jesus. A few say, \u201cAbsolutely,\u201d and others say \u201cYes, but in less dramatic ways.\u201d But all agree that Jesus does in fact communicate with people in many ways today.<\/p>\n

Since I\u2019ve been officially grounded and confined to my room, I am only downstairs because of the dishes. I try not to show my feelings, but the words and the emotions of these strangers are like lightning striking every nerve in my body. Tears begin to flow.<\/p>\n

Mom throws her arms around my shoulders. \u201cDon\u2019t cry, sweetheart. We know you didn\u2019t mean for all this to happen. It will be over before you know it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. no. . .\u201d I stammer. The three of them gather around me as we miss the end of Mel\u2019s wrap up.<\/p>\n

Dad says, \u201cYou\u2019ve made some mistakes, Matthew, and you\u2019re learning some very hard lessons.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMom, Dad, those people\u2014they understand what happened. They believe me!\u201d<\/p>\n

——————————————-<\/p>\n

I think the next day will be easier, but when I\u2019m downstairs scarfing potato chips, the phone rings. NBC pops up on the screen. I put my hand to my mouth. Two more rings and I grab it.<\/p>\n

\u201cHello.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHello. This is Jeremy Stewart with NBC in New York City, I\u2019d like to speak with someone about Matthew Davies.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI . . . I\u2019m the only one home.\u201d<\/p>\n

Are you allowed to talk to me?\u201d<\/p>\n

I hesitate. \u201c. . . I\u2019m Matthew.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, hello, Matthew! I guess you are home since you\u2019re expelled.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease, call me Jeremy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jeremy is a very nice man. I\u2019m practically dancing in place as we talk. And I can\u2019t wait to tell Joey. Ten minutes into the conversation, I realize I have a dilemma\u2014how do I tell Mom and Dad when I\u2019m supposed to be in my room? Definitely not allowed to use the phone, except for emergencies. Still, before hanging up I assure him I\u2019ll explain what he\u2019s said to my parents and he gives me his private number.<\/p>\n

When Dad comes home, I\u2019m lying across my bed reading a science book, trying to keep up with the school work I\u2019m missing. It\u2019s time I tell him some of the particulars of my Jesus interview, which is a good way to slide into the conversation I had with Jeremy. \u201cDad. We need to talk.\u201d<\/p>\n

He looks very thoughtful. \u201cShould I sit down?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

I pull into an upright position. \u201cDad, remember on Christmas Eve when you distributed Jeffy’s Santa presents?\u201d<\/p>\n

He has squashed down into a bean bag near the window. \u201cA very memorable night, Matthew. Yes, I remember.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat was the night Jesus came to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dad smiles kindly. \u201cI figured that, son. You were very emotional.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat night He told me all that stuff in my interview.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m glad you\u2019re telling me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI wasn\u2019t trying to keep it from you, but it felt so personal.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dad pushes up from the chair and sits next to me on the bed. \u201cThanks for telling me something that was very private, Matthew.\u201d He pats my back. \u201cYou can trust me, you know?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know Dad, and I know all this seems crazy, things happening that are completely out of control.\u201d I look away from him, afraid I\u2019ll cry. \u201cI just want you to believe me. I did talk to Jesus and He told me everything in that paper.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMatthew, I do believe you. Your paper is wonderful. And, yes, things are seemingly out of control. Much of it because you put your paper on line last night, which is why you\u2019re grounded.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut maybe the worst is over. We can\u2019t prove Jesus spoke to you or even that you wrote that paper. Seems no point in fighting your being expelled.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDad, there\u2019s one more thing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, son.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t get mad, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCan\u2019t promise you that, Matt. Let\u2019s hear it.\u201d<\/p>\n

I start to swing my feet. \u201cI went downstairs to get some potato chips after lunch and the phone rang. I went over to check it out and it was from NBC.\u201d I look up at him. \u201cI answered it, Dad.\u201d<\/p>\n

He is shaking his head. \u201cMatthew, you know how I feel about them after that gratuitous interview Mel did last night.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDad, it wasn\u2019t Charming Mel. It was Jeremy Stewart from NBC in New York City. He gave me his private number.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh dear Lord, the problem is growing!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey want us to come to New York.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dad just stares at me. \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n

I hand him a piece of paper where I\u2019d written as much information as my hand and brain could coordinate. \u201cThey want me to talk to two women, Cara and Terri something.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dad looks over the paper. \u201cThey want you to be on What\u2019s Up at Nine<\/em> with Cara and Terri Ann?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you even know who they are?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot really?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey host a very successful early morning talk show. Been on for years. They\u2019re smart and sassy, somewhat southern ladies with a lot to say about everything.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat sounds good.\u201d This is going much better than I anticipated.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy did you write Dennis Quail\u2019s name? Isn\u2019t he your favorite late-night talk show host?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCan you believe it? They want me to talk to him, too!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, exactly? He\u2019s late night. I can almost see you on What\u2019s Up at Nine<\/em> with Terri Ann, your Grandpa\u2019s favorite, by the way. But why would Dennis Quail want a kid on More at Midnight?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t really know, Dad. He just said Mr. Quail would be very courteous and he thought I\u2019d have fun, maybe play a game with him.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dad gets up and walks to the window. \u201cYou are twelve-years old and NBC New York is calling you. This is unbelievable.\u201d He turns around and I think I see a tear in his eye. \u201cMaybe this is fate, Matthew. We might not be able to get your teacher and principal to believe you . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

He stops and shakes his head. \u201cLet\u2019s pray about this tonight, son. I don\u2019t want us to do something stupid.\u201d<\/p>\n

—————————————<\/p>\n

I love New York! A limousine picked us up at the airport and has now delivered us to The Tower, a hotel the driver says is a five-minute walk to Rockefeller Center where NBC lives. I can\u2019t believe we\u2019re here. Can\u2019t believe Dad said yes. Can\u2019t believe I flew. Can\u2019t believe I rode in a limo! The limo driver is really nice. He told us funny stories about Dennis Quail and the More at Midnight<\/em> show, and is now carrying our luggage.<\/p>\n

Zigzagging color blocks in tan and brown and black, all my favorites, cover the hotel floor and grab my attention as we walk in. Marble walls and marble everything surround us. I spot a white sofa, a leopard sofa and a huge big crystal chandelier. Mirrors and statues and flower arrangements are everywhere. All things I\u2019ve seen before, but never like this. I follow Dad to the front desk and turn around. It\u2019s the most beautiful place I\u2019ve ever seen. Mom would love it. Before we left, she smothered me in kisses and said she\u2019s with us in spirit.<\/p>\n

While Dad checks in, I check my phone. Over eighteen million people have \u2018liked\u2019 my post and it\u2019s still going. Mega viral!<\/em> Millions have responded. Dad called Jeremy the same evening he and I talked, right after our pastor stopped by. Dad seemed changed somehow, like he was ready for me to tell the world I\u2019d interviewed Jesus. Maybe it was all the encounters people on line were saying they\u2019d had with Jesus. Maybe it was something my pastor said. I don\u2019t really know.<\/p>\n

The coolest thing was, after Dad spoke to Jeremy, he passed the phone to me. I Facetimed with two NBC bigwigs. They were testing me, Dad thought, wanting to see how I responded to questions and maybe even to see if I\u2019m likeable.<\/p>\n

I roll my carry-on next to me. Mom packed my best clothes and I even got some new shoes. It just happened so fast. NBC wanted me now while the story is \u2018fresh.\u2019 They convinced dad it was a human-interest story most people would love. \u201cNot everyone will support your son,\u201d Jeremy told Dad and Dad told Mom, \u201cbut they\u2019ll respect him in our studios. I promise you that.\u201d\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

In our room, we rush around, putting things away and changing clothes so we can be at the studio in about an hour. We\u2019re on the 52nd floor. It\u2019s like overlooking the world and I can\u2019t seem to move from the window. Mr. Quail would like us to be there as early as possible, Jeremy said. They\u2019ll have food and pretty much whatever we need. \u201cBundle up,\u201d he had said, \u201cit\u2019s cold.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dad is nervous, I can tell. But I\u2019m not. I\u2019m excited to tell my story to someone who can\u2019t expel me. We leave the building with directions to Rockefeller Center. The bustle of people on the streets almost takes my breath as much as the twenty-degree weather. Blurred and covered faces scramble past us on the wide sidewalks. What\u2019s the rush?<\/em> I wonder, shivering, looking back at a guy in shorts and a t-shirt.<\/p>\n

Oversized store windows have more glitter and lights than we have in our whole town. I keep looking up, amazed at the skyscrapers. A guy is screaming into the air as we pass him. Horns are honking, people are chattering. Even with ear muffs, the noise is overwhelming.<\/p>\n

People say New York City is dirty, but I don\u2019t see dirt, I see white concrete sidewalks and streets, glass, lights, tall buildings, taxis, and suddenly, flags flying everywhere. Rockefeller Center!<\/p>\n

Dad has his gloves off and is taking pictures before we even cross the street. \u201cSon, this is probably one of the most recognizable and prestigious addresses in the world.\u201d It\u2019s funny to hear it like that. Knowing it and seeing it are two different things. Because seeing it, I understand perfectly.<\/p>\n

A level below us is a beautiful, sunken skating rink and a statue Dad says is Prometheus, a legendary Greek Titan who brought fire to mankind. Skaters glide along as if no one is watching but above the rink scores of people take photographs. In the light cold breeze, the parade of flags flap the colors of Oklahoma, South Carolina, France, Belgium . . . \u201cThe flags represent the world,\u201d says a man next to us.<\/p>\n

A giant with a long beard is carved over the entrance to 30 Rockefeller Center. Beneath him is this quote: \u201cWisdom and knowledge shall be the stability of thy times. Isaiah 33:6.\u201d Dad says the carving looks more like a Greek God than the prophet Isaiah.\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

We sign in and one of the show\u2019s junior producers, Heather, takes us to a room set up just for Dad and me. It\u2019s near Studio F where More at Midnight<\/em> is broadcast. Tons of people come in and out to meet us, to put makeup on me, bringing food and warm drinks. Jeremy stops by. Heather takes us to Studio F where I sit in the chair I\u2019ll sit in shortly, just to get a feel for the room. \u201cFeeling weird or anything?\u201d Dad asks.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot really. I love it.\u201d I swing my feet smiling.<\/p>\n

We go back and eat some more and finally it\u2019s show time.<\/p>\n

Mr. Quail had a late appointment so I didn\u2019t get to meet him, but his introduction of me is great.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you do when you\u2019re twelve-years old and get expelled from school? Most kids might get to watch More at Midnight<\/em>, but this kid gets to be on the show! You\u2019ve probably read about him because he\u2019s all over the Internet. He claimed to interview Jesus at Christmas, and he wrote a fascinating story about that encounter.\u201d (People clap) \u201cLast we checked over twenty million people have hit his post! Are you kidding me? That\u2019s more people than watch our show! (Laughter) Anyway, the school had threatened to expel him and finally did day before yesterday. (Everybody boos) I know, I know. It\u2019s terrible, isn\u2019t it? Ridiculous! Anyway, he\u2019s here to tell us what he liked best about interviewing Jesus. Let\u2019s hear it for Matthew Davies!\u201d<\/p>\n

Everybody is cheering and clapping and some people are standing. I think I\u2019m kind of smiling, but I can\u2019t be sure. If knees actually knock, I think mine are.<\/p>\n

Mr. Quail jumps up.<\/p>\n

I shake his hand and walk past the desk to the chair, trying to look away from the lights.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks for coming, Matthew.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNice to meet you, Mr. Quail.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Matthew, I\u2019ve got a reputation here! I\u2019m a young guy. No Mr. Quail. It\u2019s Dennis.\u201d<\/p>\n

I grin. \u201cOkay, Dennis.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, Matthew, tell me about interviewing Jesus? What was that like?\u201d<\/p>\n

It was really, really cool. He was so good to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow\u2019d you know what questions to ask?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t know. I should\u2019ve been you. You\u2019d have asked better questions.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dennis waves his hands. \u201cOh, no, no. Not me. I\u2019m not questioning God. Nope.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you talk to Him?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI. . . I do. Yep, but it doesn\u2019t always go well.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy not?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s like, \u2018This is it, Dennis. The last straw! Now straighten up before I zap you.\u2019 You know, he\u2019s all over my butt.\u201d<\/p>\n

I laugh out loud. \u201cNah, He doesn\u2019t really talk to you like that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. Yeah. Actually, I think He does.\u201d He looks kind of serious.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I\u2019m going to talk to Him for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, I\u2019d really appreciate that.\u201d Then he laughs and says, \u201cI\u2019m supposed to be interviewing you! So, what did you learn in this interview you think all of us should know?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMostly I learned that Jesus doesn\u2019t judge us as much as we think He does. He loves us so much He gave up His life for us. He\u2019s really a brave, cool guy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYep, He was very brave. So, what\u2019d you like about Him the most.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe way He listened to me. I mean, He really understood me and wanted to help me. And He did, even though I got expelled for doing what I said I\u2019d do.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dennis wisecracks, \u201cYou need to pray about that,\u201d and the audience laughs.<\/p>\n

\u201cI did pray and I ended up here.\u201d The audience now erupts in laughter and applause.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, God works in strange ways, they say.\u201d He\u2019s shaking his head. \u201cSo, how long you expelled for, buddy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI think a week.\u201d And then I hesitate. \u201cUnless they see this.\u201d<\/p>\n

He laughs really big. \u201cOkay let\u2019s give them something to really get mad about.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWill you come and help me get back into school?\u201d I\u2019m sitting forward, on the edge of my chair.<\/p>\n

\u201cUh, Matthew. In case you haven\u2019t noticed, I\u2019m kinda busy. But I wish I could. I just thought it\u2019d be fun to play a little game called \u2018What to do when you get expelled.\u2019\u201d The audience claps and cheers.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow do you play?\u201d I keep my eyes fixed on Dennis, away from the camera.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis afternoon we asked the audience what they\u2019d do if they were expelled. You and I are going to guess the top six answers.\u201d He nods as if to say, \u201cOkay?\u201d<\/p>\n

A man with a deadpan look, holding an oversized silver bell in one hand and what looks like a silver wand in the other, walks out mid-stage. Dennis shakes his head. \u201cPay no attention to him.\u201d He shoos him with his hand, then looks at me. \u201cYou go first.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, hmm, what would people do if they were expelled? I think they would watch television.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ding! The man rings the bell by hitting it with the wand, then screeches: \u201cNumber 2 answer!\u201d<\/p>\n

It\u2019s hilarious and I sit back and laugh. Dennis pokes my hand. \u201cNow it\u2019s my turn. I think it\u2019s listen to music. That\u2019s what I\u2019d do.”<\/p>\n

Ding! \u201cNumber five answer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGo Matthew.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStudy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ding. \u201cNumber six answer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGo to the movies,\u201d says Dennis.<\/p>\n

Loud bong from behind the curtain. Dennis turns around wide-eyed. \u201cWhat? Can\u2019t believe nobody said that! Go Matthew.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPlay on my computer.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ding. \u201cNumber 1 answer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, I say, talk on the phone,\u201d says Dennis.<\/p>\n

Ding. \u201cNumber three answer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOne left, Matthew,\u201d says Dennis.<\/p>\n

\u201cHave friends over.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ding. \u201cNumber four answer! Matthew wins!\u201d says the announcer. Ding. Ding. Ding.<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, okay, Matthew won, but not by much.\u201d Dennis high fives me. \u201cThat was fun, huh?\u201d<\/p>\n

Yeah, that was fun, Dennis.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re going to break now, but I want to thank you for coming on, buddy. We loved having you. You\u2019re a good sport.\u201d He looks into the camera and says my name like I\u2019m a celebrity: \u201cMatthew Davies, everybody! Catch his amazing story on line, where everything is sold!\u201d Then he looks at me. \u201cWill you come back sometime and tell us what the school thinks of your new-found fame?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019d be great.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood luck, Matthew! By the way, you should move to New York where you can get away with a whole lot more stuff.\u201d<\/p>\n

I laugh and it\u2019s over!<\/p>\n

There are lots of goodbyes and hugs as we leave the dressing room. I\u2019m wound-up and want to walk to the hotel, but Heather says we need a driver. \u201cYou\u2019re a celebrity now, Matthew. People will recognize you. We\u2019ve got to take care of you.\u201d She sort of combs my hair with her fingers. \u201cHere\u2019s the deal.\u201d She looks at Dad. \u201cTomorrow\u2019s show starts at 9 a.m., but we need you to be here at 7. The driver will meet you in front of the hotel at 6:45 a.m., and Janice, another junior producer, will take you to your dressing room. There\u2019ll be a breakfast set-up. Does that sound okay?\u201d<\/p>\n

Dad says yes and she escorts us to our driver.<\/p>\n

——————————-<\/p>\n

\u201cWow!\u201d That\u2019s all I can say the following morning as I open the curtains to a sun that seems to fill me as well as the room. And the magnificent view of New York makes me feel like an eagle, observing the world as I soar above it all. Thank you, God<\/em>!<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t get used to this life, Matthew. For sure, this is here today and gone tomorrow. Literally.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut, it\u2019s so cool, Dad. Just think, if I hadn\u2019t written that story none of this would\u2019ve happened.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGet a scoot on Matthew. Our driver will be here shortly.<\/p>\n

———————————<\/p>\n

The What\u2019s Up at Nine<\/em> dressing room is smaller and not nearly as nice, but serves the same function as the More at Midnight<\/em> room. Our producer, Janice, tells us Terri Ann wants to meet me before the broadcast. And sure enough, in a few minutes a very petite and pretty lady walks in. I\u2019m eating a pastry and Dad is reading the New York Times<\/em>.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey guys.\u201d She hangs by the door. \u201cAm I disturbing anything?\u201d<\/p>\n

My dad drops the paper and gets up, beaming. \u201cHi, Mrs. Johnson. So nice to meet you. My father is your biggest fan.\u201d<\/p>\n

She smiles. \u201cThat\u2019s nice to hear. Nice to meet you too, Mr. Davies. But from now on call me Terri Ann.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m Doug,\u201d he says, \u201cand this is my son, Matthew.\u201d He points to me.<\/p>\n

\u201cMatthew!\u201d She\u2019s so cheerful. \u201cSaw you last night. You were great!\u201d<\/p>\n

I swallow my pastry fast. \u201cReally, you think so?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I do. May I come in and sit down?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh please.\u201d Dad rushes to her side like he can help her walk in. \u201cI\u2019m so star-struck I\u2019ve forgotten my manners.\u201d<\/p>\n

She sits by me on the sofa.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t want to make this long,\u201d she pats my back and smiles, \u201cbut I just wanted us to meet, Matthew. I was quite taken with you last night.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you.\u201d I put the pastry on its plate and consider licking my fingers, but don\u2019t. Dad watches us from his chair like he\u2019s watching basketball.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo tell me? How\u2019re you doing, getting expelled and all?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI . . . I\u2019m okay. Being here has helped.\u201d I wipe my hands on a napkin. \u201cA lot of people still believe I\u2019m not telling the truth, but I\u2019ve read so many encouraging posts, it\u2019s hard to be too discouraged.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m glad you told the truth, Matthew. There\u2019s one thing I want you to know about me before you come on.\u201d She hesitates and holds a curious expression. I lean in. \u201cJesus has spoken things to me through the years and I\u2019ve been criticized for saying things about Him that I believe, too.\u201d<\/p>\n

My eyes light up. \u201cReally?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYep.\u201d Her easy manner draws me to her. \u201cJust stick to the truth and pray. Ask God to guide you and He will. I promise. Sometimes I think He\u2019s not listening, but He always is. And I\u2019ve had enough experience to know that in the end, things really do work out for the best.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI trust Him,\u201d I say, so thankful she believes me I have tears in my eyes.<\/p>\n

She leans in and hugs me. \u201cLet\u2019s just have fun and tell the truth today. Okay, Matthew?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, ma\u2019am. I\u2019m ready.”<\/p>\n

Janice is beside me as I wait for Terri Ann and Cara to announce my entrance. Cara came by my dressing room, too. Like Terri Ann, she is pretty and nice.<\/p>\n

\u201cOur next guest is adorable, don\u2019t you think, Cara,\u201d I hear Terri Ann say.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe is. Many people may have caught him last night on More at Midnight<\/em>. He\u2019s a nice, very articulate young man,\u201d says Cara.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know,\u201d says Terri Ann, \u201cI can empathize with Him. I\u2019ve been criticized for my faith through the years and he\u2019s taken quite a heavy hit at a tender age. If you haven\u2019t heard, he\u2019s the seventh grader who says he interviewed Jesus on Christmas Eve and got expelled for writing up his interview for a class. His dad says he got expelled, not so much for interviewing Jesus, but because the paper was so well-written they thought he\u2019d plagiarized it. I spoke to him back stage and I don\u2019t think he\u2019s remotely capable of cheating! (she sounds outraged) After posting his paper on-line, it went viral. Good for him!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWelcome Matthew Davies,\u201d says Cara as she and Terri Ann and the whole crew clap and yell.<\/p>\n

I walk in and Terri Ann gets up and motions me to a stool beside her.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, welcome, Matthew,\u201d says Cara.<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you, ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo ma\u2019am\u2019s today, Matthew.\u201d<\/p>\n

I grin, \u201cokay.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo over thirty million people have hit your post. That\u2019s pretty mind-blowing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know! I keep meaning to Google it, to see what percentage of people that might be on the Internet. I\u2019m really grateful. I think Mr. Quail helped me last night.\u201d<\/p>\n

They both laugh. \u201cMr. Quail? Dennis might\u2019ve helped you, but I don\u2019t know about that Mr. Quail guy,\u201d says Terri Ann. \u201cSo, how lucky are you to have had an interview with Jesus?\u201d She jumps right in.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know! It\u2019s the most exciting thing that ever happened to me. Even better than all this.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI read your story and was very impressed.\u201d She\u2019s as personable here as in the dressing room.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI also want you to know that Cara and I had a team of researchers read your paper. I mean, a whole bunch. Then they went looking for something similar, something you might\u2019ve copied. To prove to people you didn\u2019t cheat. And guess what?\u201d<\/p>\n

I almost can\u2019t talk. \u201cI . . . I don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s okay, sweetheart.\u201d She lays her hand atop mine. \u201cThey found nothing! How \u2018bout that?\u201d<\/p>\n

She gives me a high five. \u201cI knew they wouldn\u2019t,\u201d she adds.<\/p>\n

\u201cMe too,\u201d says Cara.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m grinning. \u201cI hope my teacher hears that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, Matthew, can we talk seriously here for a minute. Cara and I don\u2019t usually get too serious, but being expelled is serious and interviewing Jesus is serious.\u201d<\/p>\n

I nod.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, how did it happen? You know I\u2019ve spoken to Jesus many times and it\u2019s usually through my heart, but a couple of times He was right there telling me what to do. I didn\u2019t see him, but I knew He was guiding me. Was it like that for you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cKind of.\u201d I hang my head and tears well in my eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh,\u201d says Terri Ann, \u201cMatthew, I didn\u2019t mean to upset you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s okay. It\u2019s just that I\u2019ve been holding something back for a while.\u201d<\/p>\n

Terri Ann and Cara look at each other.<\/p>\n

\u201cAbout the interview?\u201d Cara looks a little nervous.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d I rub my eyes. \u201cThere\u2019s stuff I haven\u2019t said.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy not, Matthew?\u201d asks Terri Ann.<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause until I met you, no one ever told me in person they\u2019d had a similar experience or even sympathized with me about it. Well, besides my parents. But it\u2019s hard for them to understand.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAww.\u201d Terri Ann pats my hand again. \u201cI don\u2019t want you saying anything you don\u2019t want to. But if you have something to tell us, we\u2019ll listen.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s about the interview.\u201d I\u2019m watching the camera.<\/p>\n

\u201cTell us about it,\u201d says Cara.<\/p>\n

Everyone in the studio becomes quiet, almost reverent.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt wasn\u2019t just a heart thing or a voice inside my head, it was real. Jesus came to me in a long white gown with a gold sash. He was glorious. Really, I don\u2019t know how else to describe Him. We sat in the family room and ate my dad\u2019s Christmas Santa cookies on the hearth, green and red with gold sprinkles, the most garish cookies ever. Rudoph and Santa and elves.\u201d I laugh at the memory, but light tears roll down my cheeks. \u201cJesus said they had too much sugar.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, you actually met Him?\u201d<\/p>\n

I nod. \u201cIt was the most astounding thing. He came to give me the Christmas interview my teacher told me to write. To keep me honest.\u201d I wipe my tears with the back of my hand. \u201cHe held me and told me how much he loved me. Loved all of us. That was the whole point of the interview. And then when I wrote the paper days later, He brought words and events we talked about to my mind. Words like intergalactic floe<\/em> and vector<\/em>. No way, could I have remembered it all, but somehow I wrote it.\u201d Cara hands me a tissue as Dad walks onto the set.<\/p>\n

\u201cMatthew, why didn\u2019t you tell us?\u201d He walks up and hugs me. \u201cWe would\u2019ve believed you.\u201d The camera pans to him.<\/p>\n

\u201cDad, remember the Christmas cookies on the mantle? You asked how I\u2019d made them appear since the plate had been empty.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI remember it perfectly, Matthew.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t do anything. Jesus and I had eaten all the cookies. They were gone. Then, when your back was turned I saw a flash of light on the mantle and the cookies just materialized.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dad looks stunned, dizzy. Terri Ann places her hand on his back. \u201cYou okay?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHonestly, I don\u2019t know.\u201d He\u2019s holding on to the edge of the table we sit behind. \u201cThat\u2019s a lot to take in. I don\u2019t want people to think badly of Matthew, because it sounds so extraordinary.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know Dad, but then Terri Ann and I were talking about being honest in the dressing room and I just had to tell the whole truth. Don\u2019t you think that\u2019s best?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI certainly hope so son. The world may be on your side, I just hope our small town is.\u201d The camera moves out.<\/p>\n

\u201cCara and I are on your side, Matthew,” says Teri Ann. “I totally believe you. God can do anything! Besides, there\u2019s not another story like yours anywhere.\u201d She and Cara and the crew are clapping and yelling again. \u201cCara, I think viewers should write in and tell us what they think about this.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cara shakes her head. \u201cAbsolutely!\u201d<\/p>\n

Terri Ann hugs me. \u201cHow \u2018bout it folks? Do you think Jesus made a very special appearance to a very special boy on Christmas Eve because He wanted to get a message of love to us all on the most sacred of days?\u201d She winks at me. \u201cDoesn\u2019t sound so far-fetched to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

—————————–<\/p>\n

Arriving home after any kind of trip is memorable in our house, but today Mom has made a small banner that runs from the staircase to the dining room wall. ‘So proud of our Number One Son!!’ She kisses Dad and hugs me way too long. Jeffy chants my name, wanting me to give him a hug. I pick him up and realize how heavy he\u2019s getting. Kissing his head, I set him back down.<\/p>\n

According to Mom, the whole town is up in arms<\/em>. People are taking sides, with me at the center of the storm. Mr. Strong had called earlier and wanted to speak to Dad. He sounded haughty, Mom said, but resigned. \u201cI\u2019ll call him in the morning.\u201d Dad has his arms around Mom. \u201cHe\u2019s probably threatening a lawsuit or something equally confrontational.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t think so.\u201d Mom rubs his arm. \u201cGive him a call. Put my mind at ease.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dad kisses her cheek.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m proud of you<\/em>, too.\u201d It\u2019s embarrassing how she flirts with him.<\/p>\n

Dad watches, as I take my bag upstairs. Jeffy follows to start getting ready for bed.
\n\u201cYou look fatter on television,\u201d he says. I stop and swat him with my suitcase. \u201cThanks for the encouragement, little brother.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dad yells at me a few minutes later. \u201cMatthew, I\u2019m calling Mr. Strong. Want to hear this conversation?\u201d<\/p>\n

Actually, I don\u2019t want to hear it ever, but I drag myself down and plop onto the sofa. Dad dials the phone. No answer.<\/p>\n

\u201cDad, can I be called in front of the board of education and expelled for a longer period of time?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMatthew, I think we may fare better with the board than we did with Miss Hazelnut and Mr. Strong.\u201d<\/p>\n

I give a sigh of relief and rise to go upstairs when the doorbell rings. “Answer that, honey,” says Mom.<\/p>\n

As I shuffle through the foyer, I realize it looks somewhat naked without all the Christmas decorations. I swing back the front door.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Strong.\u201d The last person I want to see<\/em>.<\/p>\n

He looks at Mom\u2019s banner, ‘So Proud of Our Number One Son!!, then at me. \u201cI\u2019d like to speak with you and your parents, if you have a minute,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n

I invite him in. \u201cDad,\u201d I yell, \u201cit\u2019s Mr. Strong.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dad invites him back to the family room and directs him to his big chair. Mom, Dad, and I scrunch onto the sofa behind the coffee table.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Davies, I was surprised you played this out in the public arena.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe didn\u2019t pursue the interviews, Mr. Strong. When Matthew\u2019s post went viral things escalated quickly. My wife tells me we\u2019re still getting calls from television shows.\u201d<\/p>\n

I look at Mom and she nods, smiling.<\/p>\n

Wow! I hope it\u2019s California next time!<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cTell me why you gave Miss Hazelnut a bag of Christmas cookies the other day that look exactly like the ones Matthew described on television this morning?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not sure what you mean.\u201d Dad sets back, his hands on his knees. \u201cI handed her a bag of scones from Lillie\u2019s Deli. I thought our meeting would be more amicable and we could share them.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere were no scones, Mr. Davies. Just the Christmas cookies Matthew mentioned.\u201d He raises his eyebrows. \u201cIt seems very suspect.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLet me get this straight.\u201d Dad now leans forward. \u201cYou\u2019re saying the cookies Matthew described on television were the cookies in the bag?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mr. Strong nods.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not possible, sir. I buy those scones a lot, and I watched them bag the four I handed to Miss Hazelnut.\u201d Dad scoots to the front of the sofa. \u201cThose green and red Christmas cookies came from Kroger\u2019s. They would\u2019ve been inedible by now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe cookies were fresh, Mr. Davies.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I . . . It\u2019s impossible, Mr. Strong.\u201d His voice is slightly raised. \u201cThat\u2019s all I can say. And I\u2019m telling you there were scones in that bag. Call the deli. They\u2019ll tell you I picked them up that day. Call Kroger\u2019s. I\u2019m sure they\u2019ll tell you they haven\u2019t made that cookie since Christmas.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPerhaps . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWait just a minute.\u201d Dad reaches inside his jacket pocket and pulls out a small red note pad. \u201cI put all my receipts in here a week at a time.\u201d He opens the pad and the receipts waft onto the coffee table. Sifting through them, he finds what he\u2019s looking for! \u201cAha! Here it is. Lillie\u2019s Deli. Four scones. Same date.\u201d He walks it to Mr. Strong.<\/p>\n

Mr. Strong scrutinizes it and shakes his head. \u201cI saw four red and green Christmas cookies with gold sprinkles in a bag from Lillie\u2019s Deli. I even ate one. I don\u2019t know what\u2019s going on, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe it was Jesus again!\u201d I interject myself into their conversation.<\/p>\n

Mr. Strong looks at me, more mesmerized than mad. \u201cI\u2019m beginning to wonder.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen we\u2019ve accomplished something.\u201d Dad seems to have calmed. \u201cA lot of strange things have evolved around my son lately. Supernatural things no one can explain. Two things you should know: we\u2019re an honest family and Matthew\u2019s an honest boy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Even my insides are smiling, but I just look between Dad and him.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s another reason I\u2019m here.\u201d Mr. Strong looks down. \u201cTimothy Hartwell, the superintendent of schools,\u201d he looks back up, \u201chis mother is Pamela Jacobs. She was Matthew\u2019s Sunday School teacher when he was in grade school. She says there isn\u2019t a dishonest bone in Matthew\u2019s body.\u201d<\/p>\n

My eyes light up. She was my favorite teacher ever!<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cMatthew thinks a lot of her, too.\u201d Dad winks at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cTim thinks we\u2019ve been too harsh with Matthew. He read Matthew\u2019s paper and like Miss Hazelnut and me, he can\u2019t explain it. Unlike us, he\u2019s willing to believe in miracles.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dad slaps his knees with his hands. \u201cThat . . . that\u2019s wonderful!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat does it mean,\u201d asks Mom.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt means, we\u2019ll see Matthew in school tomorrow. Miss Hazelnut agrees.\u201d He rises. \u201cWe\u2019re not fighting with the school board, Mrs. Davies. And, truly, I don\u2019t know what to think. If What\u2019s Up at Nine<\/em> did a search for stories and articles similar to Matthew\u2019s and found nothing, perhaps there\u2019s nothing to find. It\u2019s beyond my understanding.” He steps forward. “I\u2019m sorry to bother you all this evening. I know it\u2019s been a busy day.\u201d<\/p>\n

Shaking hands first with Dad and then Mom, he extends a hand to me. \u201cLet\u2019s put this behind us Matthew.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

He is barely off the porch when we start hooting and hollering. Dad gives me a hug. \u201cAll things work together for good to those who love the Lord.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mom is mussing my hair. \u201cWe\u2019re so proud of the way you\u2019ve handled yourself through this, Matthew. No one could\u2019ve done better. That\u2019s why Jesus chose you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you think He chose me? That this worked out the way He wanted?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRemember the story book frames, Matthew?\u201d Mom has cupped her hands around my face. \u201cHow God looks down at us through time into the frames and sees our yesterday\u2019s, today\u2019s, and tomorrow\u2019s. You taught me that in your story.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJesus told me He tries to redirect us if we\u2019re messing up, but He doesn\u2019t interfere if we don\u2019t listen for His voice.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou listened, Matthew. You not only met Jesus, but you got on a world stage and told God\u2019s children about His love. I think he\u2019s so proud of you. Just like us.\u201d<\/p>\n

That night I regale God with the events of the past two days as if he weren\u2019t watching. \u201cThank you, Lord, that I could write a paper that touched so many people. And thank you that I was able to be strong and not cry too much especially. I had so much fun and I\u2019m just grateful that you chose me.\u201d My heart swells with the love and presence of God as I pray.<\/p>\n

\u201cMatthew<\/em>.\u201d\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

I hear my name, not outwardly, but in my heart, and sit up. \u201cI choose those who have a humble and grateful heart. Those who accept my Word and my love like a little child. Before I chose you, I chose another child, Mary, to give the world the greatest offering it would ever receive\u2014My beloved Son. He is the true Gift of Christmas.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

I cry as the presence of God fills the room, then slowly drift off to sleep.<\/p>\n

I awake before my alarm or Mom comes into my room. In my drowsiness, I reach over and press around for the buzzer. What\u2019s that? I sit up, rubbing my eyes. I see it and my eyes almost fall from their sockets! \u201cMom! Dad!\u201d I grab it and run from my room.<\/p>\n

\u201cJesus is so much better than Santa!\u201d I’m practically screaming as I collide with Dad, heading into the hallway from his bedroom.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow\u2019d you know?\u201d says Dad. \u201cI just got a text.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you mean, Dad?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re going to California! Your ratings were through the roof and they want you on the coast!\u201d He hugs me.<\/p>\n

I pull from him and my mouth flies open. I hold up the red and green Christmas cookie, tears covering my cheeks.<\/p>\n

Mom and Jeffy walk into the hall. Dad gets on his knees and I join him. He presses his head to mine. Mother touches the cookie, mesmerized. \u201cLooks like we\u2019re having Christmas all year this year.\u201d She joins us on her knees.<\/p>\n

Dad pulls Jeffy into the group as he begins to pray. \u201cDear God, we are humbled by the miracles we\u2019ve experienced. Help us to follow your guiding hand. To always believe that all things are possible with You. Through the wonder of the blood of your Son. A gift we will never understand, a price we can never repay, a sacrifice that rewards us with your presence . . . \u201d I crunch into the cookie, my heart completely overwhelmed with the love and the wonder of Jesus.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Thanks for reading Matthew’s story. If you missed Matthew’s interview with Jesus, see The Gift of Christmas, December, 2017<\/em><\/p>\n

<\/span><\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
<\/span><\/div>

The fictional sequel to “The Gift of\u00a0Christmas.” This is definitely the place for an interrogation. I look up into the warmth of the crackling, florescent lights beating down like menacing rays from a hovering, intergalactic space ship. Couldn\u2019t hide anything in here if I wanted. Waiting is the worst. I realize my heels are tapping …<\/p>\n

<\/span><\/div>","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":32394,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[203],"tags":[],"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/karyncanteesstagg.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/32364"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/karyncanteesstagg.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/karyncanteesstagg.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/karyncanteesstagg.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/karyncanteesstagg.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=32364"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/karyncanteesstagg.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/32364\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":40258,"href":"https:\/\/karyncanteesstagg.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/32364\/revisions\/40258"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/karyncanteesstagg.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/32394"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/karyncanteesstagg.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=32364"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/karyncanteesstagg.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=32364"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/karyncanteesstagg.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=32364"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}