But I Didn't Do It!

     When I was four or five years old and our family was living in Bridgewater, Nova Scotia a little boy about my age lived next door. His name was Phillip and let's just say he wasn't the best kid on the block. Well those where the days when kids played outside, summer and winter. We had very few kids programs on TV other than Saturday morning cartoons, and X boxes and Nintendos were not even thought of. So we made up games outside and played. Our imaginations were very well developed, at least mine was. Phillip didn't like pretending. He was more into the real thing.
    On one particular day Phillip and I were in the back yard playing under a huge pine tree. We were 'camping' and scooping up all the fallen pine needles into a pile to pretend we were having a camp fire. I was quite content to pretend and got long alder sticks to pretend we were roasting marshmallows. This didn't occupy Phillip long before he ran home 'to get something' and came back with his mother's cigarette lighter. I was scared to death because I knew we were never to play with matches much less a lighter.
    Of course Phillip touched the lighter to the dry tinder and we soon had a fire going at the base of the pine tree. I kept trying to convince Phillip to put it out but he didn't want to. All of a sudden the worst happened: Mom came out the back door and saw the fire and did what any good mom would do: she freaked out! Needless to say Phillip was sent home with a good tongue lashing and I had my backside slapped a few times to remind me not to play with fire ever again.
     The reason why I remember this event so clearly is that Mom said something on that day that she never before nor since said to me, she said "wait until your father comes home". Now why this had me worried I don't know. Dad had never laid a hand on any of us. He usually gave us 'that look' if we were acting up and it was enough to stop us from whatever we weren't suppose to be doing. But fear sometimes has no reason or logic. I dreaded Dad coming home that day.
      Mom waited until we were at supper to tell Dad about my day. And Dad, bless his heart, knew what kind of a boy Phillip was and more than that he knew what kind of a girl I was. He didn't rant and rave or give me a lecture. He just asked me if I knew it was wrong to do what we did, to which I replied 'but I didn't do it'. Dad said that because I was with Phillip it was as if I had done it and never to do it again. And that was the end of it.
     I learned an important lesson that day: 1 Corinthians 15:33 "Do not be misled: "Bad company corrupts good character." You will be judged by the company you keep so be careful in choosing your friends. Make sure they help you to be a better person. No one needs friends who will drag you down to their level. A good friend is a blessing from the Lord.