Ken Cole was my first preacher ever.  He was the one who taught me that Jesus loves me and all the other things that I child learns about God and faith.  It was hard to find a picture of him, but I finally did in my mother’s scrap books.

 I have since lost touch with him since we moved from Ruidoso and then from Midland.  I am pretty sure he moved as well.  I wish that I could find him and reconnect.

 Because of this man, I wanted to get up and go to church.  I did not want to go to children’s church, but instead I would sit on the end of the pew, so I could lean out and see around all the big hair and men’s hats in front of me and listen to him.  He is the person who made me want to give all of my money, usually consisting of mostly copper coins, to the church to help others.  He put the first fire in my heart for my Lord and for my fellow-man.  He helped teach me right from wrong.  And although I can’t remember any exact words of wisdom or an exact moment that he influenced my life, his name and face peppers the first part and the most influential years of my life. 

Thank you for teaching me the foundation of my Father and his ways, for molding me into a person that loves thy neighbor, for giving me the ability to have faith in that which is unseen.