Hey there...well, I was sitting by the beach today and realized the greatness in knowing Jesus and having him in our lives. The greatest question we must ask ourselves is...do we know that Jesus loves us? I mean really know? So...since I write fics about samcedes...I decided to write a fic depicting Jesus' love for us reflected in the life of Christina Brown.

Blessings and goodness to you always :)

Disclaimer: I'm not sure what to disclaim really except that any places, people or songs mentioned in this fic do not belong to me, and I definitely didn't write the bible...lol :)

Chapter 1: Jesus loves me, this I know!

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. 2 Corinthians 4:16-18

The shy auburn haired, brown eyed girl sat down cast under the apple tree as its blossoms descended to the ground. Its delicate pink flowers covered the ground reminiscent of a snowflake covered meadow.

Tears fell down the eight year olds tanned colored cheeks as she recalled the events of the day which brought her to this condition.

Flashback

Christina played happily in the playground of Saint Daniels Alabama Christian School in a little known town called Riley. The small private school housed only three classrooms. An expensive education choice, for a family living on the breadline, but one Christina's parents had opted for none the less in the hopes to provide a better future for their children.

Christina played happily upon the blue derelict tractor, which employed many hours of the students time at recess. Images of days gone by when her father drove their tractor on the farm conjured up in her mind as she re-enacted his daily chores.

Suddenly an irritating screech destroyed Christina's revelry.

"Get off there you black bitch, we want to play on it!" The cold high pitched voice scowled from behind her.

Christina slowly made her way off the tractor, tears pricking at her eyes wanting release.

The red headed witch of the west smirked then cackled, "you stupid black bitch!"

Wendy's eager companion gave a knowing smile, folded her arms and jeered, "Yeah…w-what she said!"

This Red headed witch of the Easts name was Wendy. Her long red locks covered her pale freckled covered face as she sneered at Christina. Wendy came from an affluent family, well respected and liked within the community. They lived in a plush home on the outskirts of Riley, Alabama. Her father was the Head Deacon of Saint Daniels Alabama Christian Denomination.

Christina lowered her head endeavoring to fight her pending tears. Suddenly a loud voice boomed in her ear. It was Lance. Lance was a jokester, a prankster and a very good friend of Christina and her family. Lances family and Christina's family were the only dark coloured folk who attended the small community church which had a congregation of sixty four. He and his siblings were either fostered or adopted by an elderly couple. The father was of Cook Island/ African American decent whose parents had lived in Alabama for as long as he knew and the mother was a tried and true southern belle whose family owned a local plantation. She had the well-being of others at heart and always had a passion for the down trodden. Lance and all his siblings came from differing ethnicities, Cook Island, African American and Niuean. The McKnight family were the resident United Nations of Riley, Alabama.

"Punch her," Lance screamed, "punch her Christina…punch her in her ugly face!"

Christina's lower lip trembled; she had never punched anyone before. Not even her brothers who were the most annoying souls in the universe. She did not want to hit Wendy. Her fists clenched, her face heated with confusion and she shook, mainly from the sheer frustration of this young man who was spurring her on to slap the red head senseless.

Wendy smirked at Christina…then suddenly, thwack…Christina slapped her smack on the cheek. Wendy screamed, holding the side of her face, gaped in horror at her companion who stood beside her and then back to Christina.

"How dare you! I'm telling on you!" she screamed and ran quickly to the Principal's office.

Christina fell into a flood of tears as Lance quickly came to her side and placed a comforting arm around her.

"Good on yah Christina…" he chortled, "She deserved that!" He then gave Christina a quick hug and speedily traced the heels of Wendy and her companion to the Principals office.

Lances cheers of support did nothing to ease the pain that now invaded Christina's mind. Tears of sadness flowed as she regretted hurting Wendy, despite Wendy's racist outburst. Christina cried incessantly.

The large well-nourished Principal trudged slowly toward Christina. A look of disgust and anger filled his eyes. Christina shook in horror knowing that there were sure to be repercussions for her behavior. She was terrified, but more so because she was afraid of her parents and their reaction. She anticipated receiving the strap, but that was no way as bad as what her parents may do. So she sat on the ground in front of the playground, crying.

The burly balding principal reached Christina's side and squatted in front of her. Everyone at School hated the School Principal. He had a terrible temper, and would strap children for the most ridiculous reasons. Christina noticeably shook as he faced her.

"Christina…" he grimaced, "Christina…Are you ok?"

Christina was shocked, but continued to sob, did he ask me if I was ok? She was confused. Shouldn't he be strapping me right now? She queried.

"Christina…" he continued, "Lance told me what happened, they are in the classroom right now writing a letter of apology to you and they also have to write lines to learn that what they said was not right…but if someone does or says something like this to you again, then you must tell me Christina and not take it into your own hands!"

He then stood, patted her briskly on her back and said, "there, there." Then spun around and returned to his office slamming the door behind him.

Christina had two realizations that day. Firstly, Christina had a new found respect for the burly old man and that the Principal wasn't the tyrant everyone painted him to be.

Secondly…well, secondly that realization crept up on her so quickly she didn't know what to do until it hit her later that day.

End of flashback

So there Christina sat. The apple blossoms cascading around her, as she wallowed in a bed of tears. Christina was afraid, very afraid. She had returned home from school and was apprehensive about entering the house, so she stayed crouched beneath her favourite tree.

What will momma say, she worried, she will be embarrassed, she feared.

Christina's mother was born and bred in the Deep South. She was a petite woman, with a dark complexion and long jet black hair. Her mother always worried what other people thought. The Brown family were a proud lot. Since they had joined the church Mrs Brown did her best to conform to what she thought of as the expected church life. Being one of the only dark families, other than the McKnight family, gave her the drive to always want to be better. Her family had to always be dressed immaculately. They had to be polite and courteous to others. They were taught to respect their elders and to only speak when spoken too.

Even church attendance was a chore. While the other children lay sprawled out along the church pews, happily doodling pictures, the Brown family sat in the back pew and were 'encouraged' to sit straight up and take note of the sermon of the day. Any sign of sleepiness or restlessness was quickly discouraged with a hard flick across the ear from Mr Brown's unusually large fingers.

Christina cried, Mr Lawrence is sure to see momma and poppa tonight, they will be so angry.

Christina's sister Kimberley noticing her sadness quickly saddled up to Christina. "I heard what happened today," she whispered, and placed a loving arm over her older sister.

Kimberley was two years younger than Christina but had the savvy and confidence to know how to handle the Wendy's of the world. In some ways she acted more like an older sibling than the younger. She was popular at school and very confident. The only struggle she had was academia. She was darker and bigger boned than Christina and her hair was always braided, to control her thick locks.

Christina however, had no problem with regards to academia but struggled constantly in confidence and warred continually against her need to please others. She was of slight build and her hair was longer and straighter than her younger sisters.

Christina sniffled, shaking her head, "momma and poppa are gonna be really angry."

"Nah they won't…oh hang on, Momma will but I bet poppa will want to beat them up," she chuckled.

Christina smiled slightly at her sister's remark and then hung her head.

"Never mind," Kimberley smiled and then ran off toward a vacant field to play with a couple of her friends.

Christina pondered a while longer and was soon joined by her mother who had been watching Christina from the kitchen window.

"What's wrong miss…" she groaned walking toward her, "What happened at school?"

Christina knew she had to tell her.

"I-I…" she stumbled, "I-I hit someone at school and-"

Mrs Brown screamed, "what! You physically hit someone, what happened!"

Christina began to mumble, tears trailing her cheeks in succession.

"I can't understand a word you're saying child," Mrs Brown groaned.

Unexpectedly the large form of Mr Brown entered the gates.

Mr Brown stood at the menacing height of 6 feet. His large feet trudged across the pavement, boots scuffing loudly against the cobbled stones. Mr Brown was a very pale man for one of color. His great, great, grandfather had arrived from England many years ago hoping to make his mark in America. He soon met and married Mr Brown's great, great, grandmother who worked on one of the plantations where he had been foreman.

Mr Brown was proud to be of African American heritage, however, sometimes he would forget he was one at times and would inadvertently belittle any and every one of color too. He was a strange mixed up breed. Hated anyone who belittled people of color but would do so himself when he got half the chance.

His steely grey eyes met the anxious eyes of his petite wife and noticed the huddled position of his oldest daughter. Trudging toward them he grumbled, "What's wrong?!"

"Christina was in a fight today…that's what's wrong. I am so ashamed of you Christina, what on earth the people at church think of our family, they will think we are a bunch of thugs!" Mrs Brown growled folding her arms in disgust.

Christina's sobs became louder.

"Stop crying Christina and spit it out, this is not like you…" he screamed, "what happened, why Christina?!"

"I-I….ah…I-I," she stammered tears blurring her vision.

"Well, spit it out or I'm gonna thrash you," he bellowed. Mr Brown always said things like that. He thought a good thrashing would solve anything.

Christina began to howl, "She called me a bad name so I slapped her"

"What did she say?" Mr Brown bawled.

"She called me the 'b' words," she sniveled trying to mop up her tears with her shirt.

"What 'b' words?" he growled

Christina whispered her response knowing curse words were not allowed in their home, even though their father used them often when he was angry.

"WHAT!" Mr Brown screamed, "How dare she say that to my girl, look, she's not even that black," he growled.

Christina grimaced at his comment. Mr Brown was indeed a strange being. Black but not black. White but definitely not white. Christina looked at her arm taking in the colour of her complexion.

"James, just calm down…" Mrs Brown rose placing a loving arm on her husband, "trying to console him."

"I can't believe she said that, see that's what's in their families mind. They are evil I tell you Linda, evil!" he spat, his fists firmly clenched.

"Oh just calm down and stop it James!" Mrs Brown whispered.

"I'm gonna ring her parents then go to their house and belt the living daylights out of them!" he screamed, he then threw his work bag onto the step and stomped angrily inside.

"No James," Mrs brown pleaded, she then quickly bent down toward Christina, "you shouldn't have hit her Christina, Jesus doesn't do things like that, that's the devil in you!" she then stood and ran after Mr Brown who raged angrily inside the house, the sound of breaking objects billowed from within.

Christina sat beneath the apple tree. The beautiful blossoms before her, blocking out the sound of rage within their home, she looked at her complexion again. Suddenly the song, Jesus loves me began to fill her mind and that sudden realization hit her as she pondered. What would Jesus do? Wendy's family are real Christians aren't they, is it bad to be black? It must be because they are Christians…but why did what Wendy say feel so wrong? I am black she whispered, oh my. Gosh! I am black! she exclaimed looking at her arms, the song Jesus loves me continued to fill her mind, and she began to cry. No one really spoke about their color in their home except when her father would talk about the shame of black criminals who are degrading the black race. At church also, people would say we don't see color, but here she was being chastised for being black.

Christina begged for the soft melody to fill her mind once again. Quietly falling from her trembling lips, she softly sang.

Jesus loves me

This I know

For the bible tell me so

Little ones to him belong

They are weak but he is strong

Yes Jesus l-loves me-

Christina fell amongst the blossoms again. Her tears fell rapidly toward the ground. Do you really love me Jesus? Do you really? She cried, coiling among the delicate pink apple blossoms, in a river of despair.

Thanks so much for reading. God bless you and keep you...may his light shine upon you :)