Epaminondas

Granddaddy Oscar, brother Mark, and me
Christmas 1958

"You will be able to tell wonderful stories to your children and grandchildren about the marvelous things I am doing." (Exodus 10:2)

My Rebecca told children the story of Epaminondas around the campfire at Hilltop Christian Camp last night. My granddaddy told Mama the story. She told us as kids. I told my kids, and now my kids are telling my grandkids. 

(I thought Granddaddy made it up, but come to find out, according to trusty Wikipedia: Epaminondas and his Auntie is one of a series of books for young children written by Sara Cone Bryant and illustrated by Inez Hogan. It was first published in 1907.)

In the 10th chapter of the Old Testament book of Exodus, the Lord told Moses, "Return to Pharaoh and make your demands again. I have made him and his officials stubborn so I can display My miraculous signs among them. I've done it so that you can tell your children and grandchildren about the marvelous things I am doing and so you will know that I am the LORD."

Yep, Epaminondas is a fun, Southern folk story to tell and tell and retell, but the stories I want my children and grandchildren and their grandchildren to love most and remember always are the true adventures of the marvelous things God has done for me. Has God done great things for you, beloved? Tell your kids and your grandkids.

~

Granddaddy's rendition of Epaminondas:

Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Epaminondas, and he LOVED to go see his grandmaw. One day when he went to Grandmaw's house, she gave him a pound of butter. Epaminondas put that butter on top of his head, pulled on his straw hat, and headed home.  

Well, it was a hot summer day, and that butter started to melt. It ran around his face this way, and he -slurp- licked it off. It ran around his face that way, and he -slurp- licked it off. And by the time he got home, Epaminondas was a greasy mess.

His mama said, "Epaminondas, that's not how you bring home butter. You gotta wrap it in leaves and every time to you come to the stream, you gotta cool it in the water and cool it in the water and cool it in the water. And when you get home, you'll have yourself a pound a butter and won't be a greasy mess!"

"Yes 'am, Mama," said Epaminondas.

Well, the next day, Epaminondas got up bright and early and went  back to see his grandmaw. But you know what? She didn't give him butter. Grandmaw gave him a puppy.

Epaminondas wrapped that puppy in leaves, and every time he came to the stream, he cooled it in the water and cooled it in the water and cooled it in the water, and by the time Epaminondas got home, that poor puppy was almost drowned.

His mama said, "Epaminondas, now that's not how you bring home a puppy! You gotta tie a string around its neck and let him follow you home."

Yes 'am, Mama," said Epaminondas.

Well, the very next day, Epaminondas got up bright and early and went back to see his grandmaw. But you know what? She didn't give him a puppy. Grandmaw gave him a long loaf of hot, homemade bread.

Well, Epaminondas tied a string around that bread and let it follow him all the way home - over the sticks and through the dust and in the stream, and by the time he got home, that bread was so dirty, the puppy wouldn't even eat it.

Mama said, "Epaminondas, tomorrow, I'll go myself."

The next morning, Mama got up bright and early and baked two BIG apple pies and set 'em out on the doorstep to cool. She said, "Epaminondas, while I'm gone, you be careful now how you step in these pies."

"Yes 'am, Mama," said Epaminondas.

So as soon as Mama was gone, Epaminondas carefully stepped in the middle of one pie and then carefully stepped in the middle of the other pie, and do you know what happened to Epaminondas when his mama got home?

(My added ending)

SPANK, SPANK, SPANK!

Then Mama gave Epaminondas a big hug and said, "Epaminondas, I love you anyhow. Let's go make another apple pie."

So Epaminondas and his mama went in the kitchen and made the biggest apple pie in the whole, wide world and then sat down and ate the whole thing.

The End