365 # 65: The Happy Chappy

My life as a camp counselor was such that Sunday was the only day in which one could sleep late. Thus, I never made it to any of your morning services. Plus, you know, church has never been my strong suit. But I did get to hear you tell ghost stories on a number of occasions, and you were an amazingly gifted yarn-spinner, which of course is a great skill for any preacher to have. You had the cheerful chubby red-cheeked face of a garden gnome, but by the light of a campfire, you took on a much darker persona. I remember we asked you to tell a tale for some of the kids one night, and you did such a great job that several of them were left in tears. It was like we asked for Scooby-Doo and you delivered "The Exorcist."