Thoughts from the Thicket
San Jacinto Newstimes , October 2007

A couple of weeks ago I was in one of our public school libraries doing a bit of study and research.  As I sat engrossed in my material I sensed that a pair of eyes was focused on me.  I looked up to find a sandy haired little fellow who appeared to fall just short of five feet tall.  Strapped to his shoulders was a backpack full of books that appeared to be almost overpowering.
As our eyes met he stuck out his hand, holding his fingers together in a tight ridged manner, and said “Hi!”  “Hello,” I said,” and who are you?”  Continuing to gaze into my eyes with a look that reflected the inner workings of a deep thought process, he told me his name.  Following his name came a whole string of information that I hadn’t inquired about, but which he evidently thought I needed to know. 
He was in the seventh grade, lived wth his grandparents, and was taking GT classes.  For those of you who may not know, GT stands for Gifted and Talented.  Students enrolled in GT classes have generally shown themselves to be a step or two above other students in overall intelligence and the ability to learn.  Hearing that my newfound friend was a GT student did not surprise me.  Only a few moments into our conversation, I knew the child was far from ordinary.
I quizzed him about the subjects he was taking, and, of course, one of them was mathematics.  “Do you find math easy?” I inquired.  “Oh yes!” came his reply, “But I generally work the problems out in my head and then put the answer on the paper.”  That’s how I do my math, too, isn’t it how you do yours?   All us smart people do our math that way!
We discussed a few more of his classes before I asked the inevitable, “What is your favorite subject?”  “I like art,” he said with a smile, “I’m not in art class now, but I was last year, and I still like to do art.”  “Do you have some of your art that I can see?” I asked him.  Holding up his index finger as if to say, “Just a minute!” he hurried off to another part of the library and returned with a folder of his art.  Apparently the folder from his sixth grade art class had been filed in the library along with others for future reference. 
As he proudly turned the pages I complimented him on his work.  His artistic ability wasn’t quite the caliber one might expect from a GT student.  But then, I had to take into account that in spite of his exceptional IQ, he was, after all, still just a child.  The pages of his portfolio were mostly projects assigned by his art teacher, but one of them in particular caught my eye.
As he turned the page I looked down upon a picture that appeared to have been taken from a magazine.  It may have been an advertisement for perfume; the student didn’t remember.  It portrayed a handsome young man standing very close to a beautiful young woman, who, with a smile, was offering him an apple.  Obviously the advertisement was designed to evoke thoughts of Adam and Eve.
The assignment had been to paste a piece of paper diagonally across the picture from the left to the right and then to draw the student’s own version of the obscured part of the picture.   On this particular picture the blank paper had cut across the bottom half of the young woman’s face.  On the paper the student had drawn his own rendition of her mouth and chin, which gave her a sneaky cynical appearance.  At first glance, I was overwhelmed by the way in which the student’s alteration of the original advertisement had brought Satan himself into the picture.  Eve had at first appeared so lovely as she offered the apple to Adam, but now the very nature of the tempter had appeared in her face.
Well, I understand that you would have to see the picture itself to really appreciate it, but it set me to thinking what it would be like at times if our real selves suddenly appeared on our faces.  If that day in the garden, as Eve offered her apple, Adam had seen in her face the same look the student had drawn on that picture, I am certain that he would never have taken a bite.