High School Reunion

High School Reunion
Thursday, April 8, 2021 by Dan Allen

I dreamed that it was my 50th High School Reunion and things didn’t go well.

I’m two years away from my 50th reunion and I cannot believe it. Old people celebrate these things. Look at the group photos in the newspaper—everyone with white or gray hair, except for the one lady with blue. Oh, my beard is almost completely white—probably more salt–and–pepper. But the top of my head looks just like it did when I was born . . . it’s bald. I’m certainly not as old as these folks.

So, I walked into the place where the celebration was taking place and went up to the table with the name tags on it. In my dream it looked more like small, old books on the table and you were supposed to take yours which had your name on it. But, there was none with my name on it. Vonnie found hers and she didn’t even attend my school. None for me. This was par for the course—I was a nobody in my High School. I grew–up attending other schools in eastern Pennsylvania and north Jersey in the towns where my dad pastored churches. I started at this school in 9th grade. So, I didn’t grow up with the kids and didn’t know anyone, as well as I was kind of bashful anyway. You’d never know that now or if you were visiting my church youth group back then. At school I quietly sat near the back of most classes unless seats were assigned. Then, because my last name starts with “A,” I was in the front either right or left of the teacher. I carried a Bible on top of my books which may have scared some of the kids away.

At the reunion I’m standing near the front of the venue eating a bowl of chili, or so it seemed, when one of the female organizers walked up asking me why I was there.

I tip my hat to these folks in each class that keep track of the addresses of every graduate. I’m quite sure I was on the “missing” list a time or two when we were moving from place–to–place. Over the years their committee organized various get–togethers to celebrate milestones. Typically, they are held Saturday evenings which has always interfered with my next day of ministry—too far to travel, get home too late, got to preach the next day. Not to mention the fact that the venue–of–choice was often bar–type places . . . not the kind of place for a teetotaler.

Jokingly, I replied to this person that I just came for the food. She didn’t crack a smile, so I admitted that I was a graduate. She walked away as if she didn’t believe me or know me which is a good possibility. But Vonnie had a name tag. Where is she anyway? Some guy taller than I asked who I was. When I mentioned my name, he gave me a huge hug. I have no idea who he was. I then woke up.

Not sure I’ll go to my 50th. I only know one person from my class and it’s been a lifetime since I’ve seen anyone else. No way would I know anyone and it will probably be held on a Saturday evening and held in a bar.

There is a reunion, however, in which I am greatly looking forward to. It’s the one that will take place when I finally reach those shores of Glory. Oh my! What a wonderful reunion that will be. My dad and mom, my son, aunts and uncles, Christians I’ve admired through the years, will all be there to greet me. No way I’ll miss this reunion. How about you? Will I see you there?