On February 20th, 1983 at the age of 9, I was given my very first Bible. I was so excited and I felt so ‘grown-up.’ I had reached a scared right-of-passage in my family and Christian faith.
I proceeded to fill-in, in the not-so-perfect hand writing of a 9 year-old, the first page with my family record, carefully writing my family’s names with pride (and in pencil in case I made a mistake).
In the years that followed I carried it to Sunday school and tried to read the words and memorize verses. It was a comfort in times of joy and hardship.
The Bible is now almost 34 years old and it’s showing its age. I’ve since owned many Bibles and this one sits on a shelf collecting dust, but definitely not forgotten. It’s a sacred keepsake and proud testament to my faith.