By Chuck Green –

I love two stories I’ve been told about following Jesus on 15th Street.

From a man who grew up in the house next to ours in the ‘40s and’50s:

We were the only family on the street who didn’t go to church.  Every Sunday morning, half the block walked one way to the Reformed church and the other half walked the other way to the Christian Reformed church.  We always felt a little shunned, figuring other people didn’t think much of us.  All except for the preacher across the street.  He’d come to our house to visit, have a beer with my dad, and watch the fights on TV.  He always treated us right.

From a current neighbor:

We bought our house in 1969, and were so excited for a nice place to raise our family.  Then people started telling us it was a real conservative area, and they wouldn’t like us because we’re Mexican.  I got so worried, so nervous, but we had signed the papers, and there was nothing to do but go ahead and move.  We were still unpacking when I heard a knock at the door.  Oh, no, I thought, the trouble has started.  But it was the lady next door, with a plate of cookies and a smile.

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