“Fake News” Travels Fast!

A Snippit from My Seven Essential Daily Prayers

Sadly, I must admit that I’m not only a thief, I’m also a liar. No, I never lied on the witness stand in court or told a fib to escape punishment. But, then, there’s this . . .

OUTLOOK GRADE SCHOOL, MRS. DAVENPORT’S 1ST GRADE CLASSROOM, 1951-1952. Imagine a bunch of lively first graders—I think there were around 30 of us. I still remember my friends. Tony, Paul, Robert, Linda, Leon, Judy, Billy, and many more. Our teacher, Mrs. Davenport, was a motherly soul who loved each of us. She even gave each of us a small gift on her birthday! We spent our days with “Dick and Jane” readers, learning numbers, playing outside at recess, and otherwise just being kids. I was a social child, so I enjoyed all the time with other children my age. Every day was filled with busy activities. After lunch we got our mats out of a storage closet and lay on the floor for naps. We all loved school—and Mrs. Davenport. First grade was fun.

Since six-year-olds often like to tell about their family life experiences, Mrs. Davenport provided a weekly time for us to share “news” from home. My classmates reported things like getting a new model airplane for their birthday, going on a vacation trip, or some other wonderful detail. Even things like Mom was going to have a new baby, or the dog had puppies last night. We were free to say whatever we wanted to say.

Except, I didn’t have anything to report. Especially not anything unique or exciting. But, I raised my hand anyway. Mrs. Davenport saw me and gave me a turn.

I rose slowly from my chair and stood with slumped shoulders, head bowed, eyes looking at the floor. I pretended to sniffle, and said in a weepy voice, “M-my Daddy d-d-died last night!”

To this day I have no idea how that little nugget of “fake” news spread so rapidly through our farming community. Wildfire in a wheat field driven by a 30 mile-per-hour gale couldn’t have gone any faster. Within minutes the phone at our house began ringing, ringing, ringing! Neighbors calling to deliver condolences and messages of support and sympathy to my mother.

“Oh, Mrs. Fenton, I’m so sorry to hear about your husband! If there’s anything I can do, just call me.”

Naturally, my mother was quite curious as to the source of this strange rumor about her husband.

“Well,” she said, “I’m happy to tell you that the report isn’t true. Claude is sitting here in the kitchen, quite alive and well. Thank you for calling, but tell me, where did you get this story?”

Then, one-by-one she began to back-trace the gossip line until she learned that her youngest child had spun this wild tale in school during first grade “sharing time.”

There was a loving confrontation at the supper table that evening. Along with appropriate corrective measures (I’ll leave that to your imagination), I was admonished with a verse from Scripture I never forgot: “Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord” (Proverbs 12:22a KJV).

I assure you, the core life-principle of truthfulness in all things was duly impressed on a little six-year-old boy that night.