MY BEST MATE

The surprising adventures,
secrets and prayers of an
eleven-year-old.

A fun story about Chip Berry's relationship with Jesus Christ.

Many issues of Christian faith and practice are raised in an informal way through the adventures of Chip Berry. Chip gets into the usual child's mischief and is aided and abetted by his high spirited cousin Josie. Through it all both have a sincere faith in Christ.

This story has proved popular when used in schools, other groups, and also as a series of bedtime stories read by a parent. It is best suited for children between the ages of 10-13 years. Although, one school teacher adapted it and used it for a class of 8-9 years. She reported considerable enthusiasm from the kids.

I see it as a valuable resource for:

Religious instruction in schools.

Children's segment in public worship.

Sunday school classes.

Some reading for kids who rarely read a book but will read a screen.

Bedtime story.

Attached is a sample of 4 chapters. The complete story has 33 chapters in all.

Issues tackled in the story include :

Is God far away? How does prayer work? How to start trusting Jesus. Multicultural friends. How does one witness for Christ? Loving one's enemies. Does Christ have favourites? Who is Jesus, really? When am I a hypocrite? Possessions that disappoint. Is being good enough? What does"grace" mean?

The Ten Commandments? Some unlikely saints. Can prayers give me what I want? Where is heaven? Dealing with racism. Can we trust our feelings? Will goodness win? Why do we do bad things? Accepting one's gifts, humbly. Jesus and our enemies. Asking the right questions. The glory of Jesus.

One clarification is needed: Chip's rare gift of sometimes seeing Jesus is dealt with in a special chapter on spiritual gifts. There as no suggestion that other children should experience Christ in exactly the same way as young Chip.

Availability of this complete story? Price now slashed to $15 in Australia and $20 in other countries See the end of this section for details.

CHAPTER 1

FAMILY AND FRIENDS

"Now there's one mighty black hole! The largest in the known universe!" exclaimed my big sister Lidjet at a family barbecue. I had just finished my second chop and took my fifth sausage. "When any food gets near it, it cannot resist the awesome tug of Chip's amazing dietary orifice."

Lidj likes showing off words like dietary orifice and carrying on about my eating capacity. She is practically grown up: 15 years and 4 months. Although we are always arguing, deep down I like Lidj.

I would never admit it to her, of course, but I think Lidj is very pretty and super cool. She is good at most things and is clever at making up cute little poems, like limericks and stuff. She can compose one in a few seconds. In our family we call such poems a lidjettery.

I had better introduce myself. I'm Chip Berry, 11 years old and in my last year at Tower Hill Primary School. That means I'm one of the big kids. I am making the most of it because next year I'll be one of the small kids at Secondary College. I enjoy my school work, especially maths. I am great at maths. With sport I'm just average.

There is one extra-important fact that I must tell you: I know the Lord Jesus. He is my best mate for sure.

When I say 'know' it's not like I know Mum, Dad, my big sister Lidjet and my little sister Lia, or my favourite cousin Josie (whom I call Cuz 1).

I know the Lord Jesus much less than I know my family yet also much, much, more. It's a deeper kind of knowing. Knowing him goes into the secret corners of my mind and heart. In fact ( you might find this hard to believe and think me round the twist) there are times when I seem to hear Jesus or even briefly see him.

I can't hug the Lord Jesus like I hug Mum. I can't wrestle with him on the floor like I wrestle with Dad. But in a deeper way his love hugs me and at times his Realness wrestles with the real me as no ordinary person could.

Mind you, he is very slippery. It's impossible to pin him down. I can't make him to do what I want, not by force, or begging, or by cunning.

I can often con Lia into doing what I want, sometimes I can be extra helpful to Lidj and con her. But not the Lord Jesus. He sees right through me and is always one step (sometimes a thousand steps!) ahead of me. He is free; very, very free!

By the way, when I'm talking with him, I don't call him Lord. I reckon that word 'Lord' sounds awfully bossy, like an English bishop or something. He is not like that. He is my best Friend. I call him Wirake, which is an old country name that I like. He does not mind.

He treats me as if I were the only person in the whole world. I wonder is that how other Christians feel? Is every person special to him?

My close school-friend is Hamish; whose mum came from Scotlland and his dad from Germany. I call him 'Ham'. Some of the other kids started calling me Egg (like, because ham and egg go together) and even Ham calls me that now. We muck around together at school and often visit each other's homes during the week.

On Sundays I go to church with my family. Hamish does not go to church much, but when he does, it's not the same as mine. Ham is not very religious. My cousin Josie goes to her dad's church; which is also different from mine. Why are there are so many different churches? There is only one God, I reckon.

I spoke with Lidj about the silliness of having so many different churches. For once she agreed with me and later came to my room with a lidjettery about it:
A big mossie who loved to bite,
taught me something that is right:
The blood in every church I visit,
tastes equally exquisite.

There you go. She cannot help using fancy words like exquisite. I nodded my head wisely, but after she had gone I had to look it up in my dictionary.

Maybe you need to know something else about me: I'm a bit shy. Some kids really like performing up front on a stage, or meeting new people. Not me. I take a while to settle in to new situations.

If I have to speak or perform by myself on the stage ( it's not so bad in a group, like a choir) I get some very fluttery butterflies in my stomach. When I'm feeling shy and awkward, it is good to know that Wirake is at my side.

Wirake gives me courage.

CHAPTER 2

SEVENTY TIMES SEVEN

I saw Wirake today. After school, down the valley track, when I was out riding my bike. It's queer how he often turns up when I have not been giving him the slightest thought.

You see, I was in a bad mood. That's why I was out riding. I came home from school as angry as an ant. That bully, the Abominable Alby, caused it. It was his fault.

He always seems to pick on me. Like today. He is a year older than I am, and is tall and strong. He is good with his fists too; they say his father trains boxers.

While I was talking with friends in the school corridor, Alby swaggered along , snatched my bag and threw it on to the top of a locker. "There, Chicken Egg" he sneered. "When you grow up a bit you'll be able to lift it down."

I yelled at him: "You get that down for me or else!"

"Or else what, Chicken Egg?" he sneered. He pushed me up against the wall and jabbed me in the ribs, before stalking off laughing. The stinker! How I loathe that guy! He always makes a fool of me in front of my mates.

After some unsuccessful attempts at getting the bag down, I had to go back and ask my teacher to help me. I could not rat on Abominable Alby, so I told her I had been swinging my bag and it slipped out of my fingers.

With a broom, she retrieved my bag. But she crossly told me to look after my things in the future. I hate Abominable Alby! I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!

I was still in a bad mood when I arrived home. I took it out on others. I quickly made myself unpopular with my sisters and Mum. So after gobbling three biscuits, an apple and a banana, I jumped on my bike and pedalled off down the valley track.

When I came to the old, flat gravel pit (we call it the bull ring) I threw the bike around a lot, doing wheelies and skidding, making lots of dust. It was my way of trying to let the anger out of my system. It did not work very well. I was still boiling in the guts.

That's when Wirake arrived on an old rusty mountain bike. "Hi, Chip!" he called. I ignored him; pedalled fast and did a jumbogantic skid. Dust and gravel flew everywhere.

"Not much good for your tyres, Chip!" Wirake said. "You must be made of money." I just scowled, then did another wheelie.

"Why don't you go away?" I shouted. I'm not in the mood for sermons!"

"Nor am I", Wirake said. "So let's cut the bull dust and talk about what is burning up your guts".

He came across to me to put his hand on my shoulder, gentle like. We sat down on a rock and were silent for a few minutes. "You going to tell me?" he asked. I told him. It spilled out, all the colourful details of Abominable Alby and his bullying.

More silence. Then Wirake spoke: "I guess Alby is not very good at maths?" "No!" I retorted, "useless in fact, but what's that got to do with anything?" "Just a thought" Wirake replied. "Forget that for the moment, and let's deal with your bad mood".

"Chip," he asked. "When are you going to get around to forgiving this Abominable Alby?"

That floored me. I was expecting some outburst of anger against Alby, or at least some tut-tutting. But this! Me forgive that stinker? How could he expect me to?

"No way!" I exploded. "I don't see why I should ever forgive him. The guys a creep, a nerd, a berk, a galah, yes and a stinkhead! I'm not going to give him the pleasure of my forgiveness!"

"And who does that hurt? Do you think he's wandering around his home, utterly miserable because of your unforgiveness? Who is the guy who is suffering here, who is it that is burning up inside? Who is missing out on the pleasure of forgiveness?" Wirake insisted.

I did not reply. It was too obvious. I was the one who was suffering most, not the horrible Abominable Alby.

Wirake again put his hand on my shoulder. "Look Chip, unforgiveness is like a jailer; it chains you to the past and stops you enjoying the present. It is a misery. It's like er carrying an ant's nest in your pack, or...er... trying to walk fast with gravel in your Reeboks. Unforgiveness makes your own life a little hell, not the other guy's. So I put it to you: when are you going to forgive the Abominable Alby?"

"But" I complained, "He's always doing things to me! How many times do you expect me to forgive the creep!"

Wirake replied with words I've heard somewhere before: "Seventy time seven, Chip. Forgive him seventy times seven."

"Dunno," I grunted. "Forgiveness isn't easy; 70 x 7 , that's 490 times! How does one do that! I can't see myself walking up to him and saying I forgive you! That would earn me a knuckle sandwich!"

Wirake grinned. "I'm not asking you to do that. I want you to sincerely, forgive him in your heart. Maybe the best way is to just start praying for him, not saying complicated prayers; just asking God to make Alby happy.

I raised one eyebrow and pulled a face, muttering: "Happy? Did I hear you say happy?"

"Yes happy, Chip! Free yourself from bitterness. You don't have to say anything to Alby. Just truly want the best for him. Pray for Alby's happiness. Then your attitude to Alby will slowly change. You won't be notice it, but he will gradually become aware of a new strength in you.."

I blurted out: "But it isn't easy. Fair go, Wirake! It isn't easy to forgive a scumbag like him!"

A far away look came into Wirake's eyes. He fingered old scar marks on his hands. Then he said very softly: "I know, Chip; I know. Forgiveness is not at all easy."

CHAPTER 6

JOSIE MEETS ALBY

During the school holidays Josie came to stay at our house for a week.

Being the only kid in her family, she likes being with our mob. Lia thinks Josie is great because she plays games with her and does not get cross like I do. Josie looks up to Lidj as if she were a perfect big sister; Lidj even lets her try on that make-up stuff.

I like Cuz 1 just the way she is. On Tuesday we played tennis. She beat me two sets to one. I promised to give her a walloping next time. She grinned and answered: "In your dreams, Cuz 2. In your dreams."

Today we rode together down the valley track to the bull ring. For a girl she is okay. I showed her how to do wheelies and she soon got the hang of it. We made a lot of bull dust.

While we were messing around, to my horror I saw Abominable Alby and three of his thugs coming down the track. I said to Josie: "Hey, lets get out of here! This guy is big trouble."

"Why should we?" Josie retorted. "I'm not going anywhere. We have as much right as they have to be here." She raced her bike around the bull ring and did a whopping wheelie."

"Well, well well," said Alby as he pulled up beside me. "What have we here? The Chicken Egg with a girlfriend. However did a little runt like you manage to con a chick?"

I swallowed hard, and tried to sound tough: "Why don't you go and get lost. Anyway, she may be a girl and she is my friend, but she is not my girlfriend. And it's none of your business!"

As a reply, Alby gave me a shove and sent me and my bike crashing to the ground. The creep! He had humiliated me again, this time in front of my favourite cousin. "Like eating dust do we, Chicken Egg?" he mocked.

Josie pedalled across as fast as she could come. She leapt off her bike strode up to Alby and, with hands on her hips, confronted him. "Lay off fathead! You touch my cousin again and you'll regret it, buster!"

Josie is skinny but tall. Her face was level with his.

Alby just stood there, mouth open , not knowing what to do about this unfamiliar situation.

Then Cuz 1 stepped closer, lifted her hand and with one finger pushed the Abominable One hard on the nose. He took a quick step backwards as she went on: "Why don't you go and play with some dung beetles, or perhaps lie down on some thistles, or maybe have a nice drink of poison?"

The bully just stood there, with his thugs looking on, dumbfounded. Alby had never been treated like this before.

"Anyway," Josie said, "What's up with you? What's biting you that you have to be such a creep! You know, Buster, I reckon it's a shame that you make such an ass of yourself. You could do a lot better."

Josie was not finished with her surprise tactics. She reached out and ran fingers through Alby's hair. "A pity, you've actually got nice wavy hair, Buster. Nice blue eyes, too. You know, you could make something of yourself, if you wanted to."

This was too much for Alby. There, in front of his thugs, he blushed a vivid red. It started in his neck and rushed right up into his hair.

His gang nudged each other, smirking.

"Come on, Cuz 2," Josie said. "Let's get going. I would like some less smelly company." She rode off up the valley track, with me following, still amazed at what I had witnessed.

When we arrived at our backyard, and were putting our bikes in the shed, I said: "Cuz 1. Did you know the risk you were taking? That scumbag is really bad news. And besides, I felt a fool being defended by a girl, you know."

"Sorry, Cuz 2, I did not think of that. But why should you feel a fool? Girls are as strong as boys, in a different way though. Besides," she said with a giggle, "I was bit naughty, I guess. I was hoping that a bully would not hit a girl. If you had tried what I did, you might now be wearing two black eyes."

That evening, while I was in the bathroom, cleaning my teeth, I went over the details of the day. From somewhere (from within me or outside me, I'm not sure) a familiar voice said: "An interesting day, eh? "

"Oh, it's you again, is it Wirake? Yep. An interesting day. I still feel a bit of a fool though, being protected by a girl."

"Well, it's time you knew better," he said. "Girls have as much right to protect boys from harm as boys have to protect girls. You are different but equal, okay? I hope you are not going to spend your life imagining that males are somehow superior to females!

That is not the way it is. Together, I say together, you are made in the likeness of God. Why don't you take the Bible seriously, Chip."

On the following Sunday, in the second Bible reading, that bloke Paul said: "In Christ Jesus there is there is no difference between Jew and Greek, slave and free-man, male and female. We are all like one person in Christ Jesus."

I pricked up my ears and grinned.

Lia dug me in the ribs and whispered: "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," I whispered. "Just sort of happy, that's all."

CHAPTER 16

A TIME FOR CRYING

Our home is an unhappy place at the moment. We are all feeling miserable. Dad and Mum try to be cheerful but it is hard.

Grandma Rita has suddenly died. Dad says her heart has been worn out and weak for a long while. While she and Grandad were holidaying in Darwin, her heart suddenly stopped.

Grandma was a very kind, happy woman. She made each of us grandchildren feel as if we were extra special to her.

We are all going to miss her very much. Especially poor old Grandad Fred. We met him at the airport when he arrived home from Darwin. He and Dad just hugged each other for a long time. That made .Mum, Lidj and Lia cry. Lidj says that crying is good. It's God's way of helping us wash out some of the pain. I wanted to cry also but could not do it; it sort of got stuck in my throat.

If someone whom you loved very much has died, you will understand me. It hurts badly, like your soul is torn deep inside your chest. But you can't always weep when you want to. Nor can you get at the pain with medicine or pills.

I sobbed a bit when Mum first told me. It hurt but I felt quieter afterwards. Now I seem to go up and down. One moment I remember something funny about Grandma and I smile; the next moment I think of her as dead and I am down in the dumps.

I'm lucky to have a family to share it. A hug helps more than words. We have done plenty of hugging. Uncle Chris, Aunt Kate and Josie came over and we did a lot more hugging.

Grandma Rita was not Josie's grandma. But Cuz 1 seemed to understand how I was feeling. She just sat with me for a long while saying nothing. I appreciated that.

As for Wirake, he seems to have been far away. I have not even glimpsed him or heard a whisper from him. I can't understand why. I could really do with his help at the moment.

The Bible helped me. Sometimes when I read the Bible, it just seems a lot of words. But this morning, I was leafing through the Psalms (they have a lot of tears in them) when my eye fell on Psalm 42. As I read that Psalm, a peculiar thing happened at the last verse: it stood out as if it were written in thick capital letters:
Why am I so sad? Why so troubled? I will put my hope in God.
Once again I will praise him, my saviour and my God.

Those words were meant for me. I let go of my sadness and trusted God. A kind of peace spread inside me, deep down in the painful spot where nothing else had reached. I cried gently for a long time, then I felt calm. Later, I looked at the verse again. It no longer stood out in thick black letters. Had I imagined it? No! The lovely calm within me was a sure sign that something special had happened.

I wonder is that why they sometimes call the Bible the Word of God?

The funeral for Grandma is this afternoon. Our neighbour, Mrs Thomson, who says "a funeral is no place for kids," suggested we stay at her place this afternoon. However, Mum and Dad said we can all go to the church and cemetery if we want to, or stay with Mrs Thomson, if we prefer that. Although I am scared, I will go with Mum, Dad and Lidj. However Lia, has chosen to attend school. Mrs Thomson will collect her after school.

 

I wonder why Mrs Thomson said : "A funeral is no place for kids" ? I am a bit frightened; a lot more since Mrs Thomson said that. Are funerals a horrible experience? I must be brave. Now it's time for me to have a shower and get dressed. I'll talk to you later.

---

Funerals are okay! It was not at all scary like I thought it might be. There were sad moments of course. Yet there was also a kind of solemn happiness which we all shared together. Lidj and I sat one on each side of Grandad and he held our hands as if we were strong and he was weak.

Grandma's priest, Father Tony, said we were together to celebrate Grandma Rita's life and to trust her into God's eternal love. I liked that; we had lots to celebrate. We sang hymns, read from the Bible, said some great prayers, and then Father Tony spoke about Grandma's lovely life. It made us feel sad-happy-proud-grateful-tearful.

After the church service we went to the cemetery. That was more sad. We stood around the grave while the priest said some prayers and read some Bible verses. Then they lowered the coffin. Father Tony read about "earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust". It was over quickly.

Then any of us who wanted to, threw a handful of soil on Grandma's coffin. I liked that part. Her body is at rest in mother earth.

I knew that my real Grandma was not in the grave; just her old, worn out body. I don't understand heaven, but that 's where she is. It's a happy place. Like the priest read from the Bible: "There is no more death, grief or crying or pain" in heaven.

Josie came up and gave me a hug. She said: "I didn't. know your Gran very much, Cuz 2, but I'm sure she was special." I cried a bit.

I began to feel much better. It was as if sharing these ceremonies together with our family, and with friends who also loved Grandma, was like medicine, helping to heal the wound deep within our souls. I'll never be frightened of funerals again.

After the cemetery, we had a kind of party back at our place. The house was crowded with uncles, aunties, cousins and many friends. They chatted about Grandma, remembered the kind things she said or did, and chuckled about humorous events. It was very noisy in a sad-happy way.

But Wirake still has not visited me. I don't understand why he seems to hide himself sometimes. Or is it that my sorrow is like a cloud which blots out the sun?

Copyright © B.D. Prewer 2000

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