What Made Jim Different?
By Stella Parker Peterson
Editor’s Note: The people in this story—Jean, Judith, and Jim—are older teenagers who have just started college. That’s a lot older than you! But we’re including this story because what Jim is doing for others is not just for teenagers, but kids too. In fact, he started practicing when he was a kid! Read the story and discover what Jim was doing. Then start practicing too!
It’s funny about Jim,” Jean said one afternoon as she and Judith finished their work in the cafeteria—wiping down tables, filling napkin holders, and straightening chairs.
“I’ve known him my whole life, and I’ve always thought of him as dependable—kind of like the family clock. Always there. Always reliable. Remember all the times we wanted to go ice skating? Our moms would just ask, ‘Is Jim going?’ If he was, they knew we’d be fine.
“And he was always helping with something. He volunteered to set up for Vacation Bible School, fixed whatever was broken at church picnics, carried heavy boxes—you name it. More practical than flashy, I guess.
“But since we’ve been here, have you noticed how everyone seems drawn to him? After dinner, when he’s washing dishes, he somehow turns it into a game. The girls race to see who can dry dishes the fastest, and Jim always announces the winner as if it’s a championship event.”
Jean laughed before continuing.
“Then there was Bible class the other morning. Jim shared some of the stories old Grandpa Smith has been telling for years. Back home, everyone had heard them so many times that people practically tuned them out. But when Jim told them, the whole room hung on every word.
“He talked about those first camp meetings, during which families slept in canvas tents—or even under sheets stretched between poles—and everyone sat on rough wooden benches. They lit bonfires and carried lanterns because there wasn’t any electricity. I’d heard that story a hundred times, but somehow Jim made it feel as if we were witnessing history. He made it seem as important as the first Thanksgiving or the signing of the Declaration of Independence.”
She paused for a moment.
“And the other day between classes, I saw Jim stop to talk with that quiet freshman who sat at our table during the first few weeks. Jim put a hand on his shoulder, and as I walked by, I heard him say, ‘I’d love for you to join my prayer group.’ And instantly I remembered when that little boy, Tommy Jones, moved into our neighborhood. He used to sit on the fence watching the rest of us play because he didn’t know anyone. Jim walked right over and invited him to join us, and you should have seen that kid’s face. He couldn’t believe someone wanted him there.”
Jean nodded.
“Jim was that boy’s hero.”
“And he’ll probably become this young man’s hero too,” Judith replied. “That’s the thing—he hasn’t changed. He’s always been the kind of person who notices the lonely one. The difference is that now he’s inviting people into something even bigger. Whether he’s washing dishes or leading a prayer group, he wants everyone else to experience the same joy he’s found.”
Jean grew thoughtful.
“Back home Jim, with his athletic ability, would probably be the star quarterback or captain of every team. People would admire him for that. But here it seems that his greatest goal is helping people find something that matters even more.”
The work supervisor stepped in.
“I need someone who’s willing to switch work assignments,” she said. “Would either of you mind changing?”
“Of course,” Judith answered immediately. “Whatever you need.”
Jean was a little more cautious. “What would I be doing?”
“Drying dishes after dinner.”
Jean’s face lighted up. “I’d love to! Please let me.”
The woman smiled at her enthusiasm and made the change.
As soon as the door closed, Judith walked over and rested her hands on Jean’s shoulders.
“Am I hearing things,” she teased, “or is this really the same girl who’s spent years avoiding anything that involved dirty dishes?”
Jean laughed.
“Guilty.”
Then, with a smile, she added,
“I guess this place has a way of changing people.”
With that, she grabbed her books and hurried off to her afternoon class.
The original version of this story was featured as part of a series. Chapter 3 appeared in the August 16, 1927, issue of The Youth’s Instructor under the title “College Days.” It has been adapted for today’s language.