Back to the Old Story - Now the Eighth Grade

I told you a few months ago (before i got distracted with the excitement of the present) that we have a come to a very very important part of my life. It may not be truly more or less important in God's eyes. I'm not sure. But i do know that i can personally see more of the effects from this part of my life that any other.

Sadly, i know that i do not remember nearly everything that happened. But happily, i remember a lot of it. Back in May, i told you about Kristi and April and Joy. Now let me tell you about James Allen Rogers. I mention his middle name here because i knew it as soon as i knew him.

This is the eighth grade. I was new to town. James wasn't new to town. Everyone knew him, but he hadn't been there for a year or two. I didn't know why, but he had been living with his mom or something. And when he re-enrolled in our school, his name was somehow messed up on the roll, and every time a teacher called attendance, they asked for Allen Rogers. So, in every class period, everyone in the class learned James' middle name, Allen.

If i remember correctly, i actually had only two classes with James. We had Mrs. Sewell's history class, where James sat one row to the left and one row behind me. The other class was Coach Williams' Algebra (or maybe pre-algebra) class. James sat a couple of rows away from me in that class, so i don't remember him in that class as much.

James, of course, is my current husband. But i didn't always have the great affection for him that i have now. It started out a little rocky. It was pretty early i the year that i actually got myself in a lot of trouble with James. A lot in my book anyway.

It was the night of the high school homecoming game. I was to spend the night with my friend, Michelle. We were both part of the "pep squad," which really meant that we wore matching t-shirts and cheered loudly at the football games. At some point in the evening, i learned that Michelle planned to go to the 8th grade homecoming dance after the game at the baptist church. Now, my parents didn't allow me to go to dances. And i should have called them and let them know my situation. But instead, i rationalized that i would just have to go with Michelle to the dance. But, oh no, i didn't have a date. So i decided that i would see if James, whose advance i had previously rejected, wanted to go with me to the dance. I said that i just felt sad for him and knew he wanted to go with me, so i went to the dance with him. But it seems like i must've had feelings for him......at least a little.

Anyway, we danced slow dances together at the dance. Mostly we stood and swayed and stepped on each other a little. Neither of us dared a fast dance. We didn't kiss or hold hands or anything. We just swayed.

Well, it remained that whether i liked James or not, i had still disobeyed my parents, and in the following days, my conscience was making me MISERABLE. So miserable that i actually broke down, and with great sobbing and tears, confessed to my completely unsuspecting parents what i had done.

I got grounded from high school games for the rest of the year. Wow.



Folloing our dance I remember that James made further attempts to express his affection for me. I don't think i responded well. Allthough, i still own a small ziggy doll dressed in heart covered boxer shorts that he gave me that year. He also gave me a beautiful red rose, freshly cut from his parents' garden, carefully wrapped in a wet paper towel and a piece of foil -- for which i became very angry with him.

I had already made it very clear to him (possibly after the gifting of the ziggy doll) that we could only be friends. Then he answered with a red rose. Later, i learned that the rose was meant to be a "friend gift."

Whatever.