I was only 7, the first time I encountered the King of Love; it was in the spring of 1948. I heard a silver hand bell jangling above the concrete steps leading to the playground and Mrs. Kay calling, “Come in children, we must get ready for our field trip.”

We quickly formed a small herd around Mrs. Kay and followed her back to the 2nd grade classroom. I remember her saying: “You have 15 minutes to use the restrooms and get your wraps from the cloakroom; then come back and form a double line in the hall in front of the main exit.”

Shortly, we headed out the door and up Lucky Street toward the Tower Theater in Atlanta, Georgia. We were being treated to a free movie. The walk to the theater intensified my senses as I caught the scent of fresh-cut grass and aromatic blossoms; mingled with the aroma of steamy wet, sun-warmed, sidewalks after a spring rain. Insects buzzed around me, adding to the din of passing traffic. After crossing West-Peachtree, at Peachtree street, we turned left and walked about half a block to the brightly colored facade of the Tower Theater.

We excitedly entered the decorated, swinging doors, and followed the ushers into a dim auditorium where we could barely see each other. Nestling down into plush seats, I listened to our childish voices twittering in low voices until the lights blinked out and the title of the film, “King of Kings”, flashed on the big silver screen above the stage.

I sat there and watched Jeffrey Hunter portray JESUS with such vivid, persuasive acting, I vicariously became part of the crowd sitting in the grass listening to the Great Teacher speak his truths. I felt pangs of hunger as he broke the bread and fish to feed the hungry crowd. I felt the gentle emotions of love flowing like warm honey from the man on the screen as he healed people and even raised the dead.

My eyes grew damp as it poured straight into my heart, and I felt as if I had known him for a long–long time. My interests turned to anguish as I watched the Jewish Leaders try him; and the Roman soldiers scourge him with whips until he could barely walk. My heart ached as I saw them falsely accuse him, and cause him such pain. I stood in the crowd watching them drive cruel spikes into his hands, and hang him on a rugged cross. I mentally shouted; “Kill those men! Kill them! They’re Liars, ALL LIARS!”

I thought, “How can they do this? What did he do to make them so angry? He only healed people and did good deeds; why are they killing him for that? He has the power to raise his hand and strike them dead. Why doesn’t he use his power?” I sat there in anguish, as they took him down and buried him in a tomb. Then they sealed the door with a huge boulder too large for one man to move. His disciples had all run away and hid, out of fear; and as the women wept. I wept too.

Suddenly my tears turned to joy as the sound of an earthquake filled the theater. Lightning split the dark sky. A Thunderclap shook the theater walls as the huge stone came rolling away from the mouth of the tomb. I shared the pure ecstasy of joy with Mary Magdalene as she came rushing back from the tomb, shouting to his disciples, “He's Alive! He's Alive!” Then, the bittersweet emotions of parting as the movie showed JESUS ascending into the clouds; making his way back to his father in heaven. At that time, curiosity became my constant companion.

Who was he?

Where did he go?

Will he come back again, as he said – for us?

What must I do to earn my own assurance of life after death?

Walking back from the theater to our classroom, I just couldn’t stop thinking about what I had just seen on that movie screen. My heart was so full of love for that man who was hung on the cross, it was almost bursting. I teared up each time I thought about GOD truly becoming a human flesh being and dying for me like that; it was almost beyond my small comprehension. Just because JESUS loved me and all the other human spirits GOD created so much.

I vowed to learn more about the man who said he was GODS’ human flesh SON. I wanted the key that unlocks the door to wherever he went in heaven. I vowed to hound the footsteps of truth and wisdom wherever they go; I will follow them, rain or shine; over whatever grounds they might travel; for answers.

My curiosity burned to know more about this marvelous world beyond that JESUS went to. Yet I soon found this to be an impossible task. Just as I thought I had a handle on knowledge; truth and wisdom eluded me. Also, I needed an escape route to take me away from my current painful world of reality. My alcoholic parents were making my young life miserable.

Later that same year, at my tender age of 8; I began a quest for spiritual knowledge. I searched every path that books presented to me; since I had learned to read before I entered grade school. However, I was soon kidnapped by science fiction writers. I mounted the invisible steeds of imagination; borrowed vicariously from the authors of children’s books at local libraries. I traveled across the sea floor in the crystal shell of a sea snail with Dr. Dolittle; on a quest for a magic fruit that grew on a unique tree in only one place on Planet Earth; an island guarded by a beautiful white unicorn...