This article, or testimony, isn't complete, I don't think.  I have some
other thoughts that go with it but I just haven't gotten the thoughts all
connected in how I want to say it.  There is enough here, however, that it
should get my point across.  this is related to the new year, although you
won't think that at the time you read this testimony, but that is the part
that is missing and I am still thinking about.  On the surface, this
testimony sounds pretty weak and trivial.  To me, on the other hand, it is
one of the most powerful healing, or renewal of the mind experiences, I have
ever had personally.  If you are unable to see why, I didn't do as well
making my point as I thought, and I'll try doing better next time.

Phil.

I Killed My Best Friend

By Phil Scovell


 I was born and raised in Des Moines, Iowa.  Every year, my
parents took us to the Iowa State Fair.  As a little boy it was an
amazing place to visit.  The rides on the Midway, the snow cones,
the hot dogs, the farm animals, the tractor pulls, the full sized
replica of a cow carved from butter and displayed behind a glass
refrigerated showcase, the fireworks, the balloon man, the
demolition derby car races, and the special guests that always
came to the Iowa State Fair defied a little boys imagination.

 I was only about 2 years old at the time, maybe 3 perhaps,
when Roy Rogers came to the fair.  Following his performance, he
came around the fence and as thousands of us stuck our little
hands through the wires, he shook hands.  As my sister held me up,
I actually got to touch his sleeve, believe it or not, and I
remember it as though it were yesterday.

 We never spent much money at the fair because dad said
everything was too expensive.  Just going, however, was always a
thrill because there were many free things to see.

 The most exciting experience I ever had at the fair became a
annual tradition.  We were walking down one of the sidewalks on
our way to find our car and to go home, when we innocently passed
a man on the sidewalk selling something.  I never even paid any
attention to what he was selling because, as I said, we often
didn't get much at the fair.  I was the closest to him and the
man reached over and placed a small green lizard on my right
shoulder.  It had a string loosely tied about its neck and there
was a safety pin tied to the other end of the string.  The
salesman quickly pinned the chameleon to my shirt and said, "Say
little feller.  That looks great on you.  Wouldn't you like for
your dad to buy you this little lizard as your pet?  They are only
a dollar.  Surely your dad can afford a dollar."  I had never been
so excited in my life.  I don't recall if I began jumping up and
down but I felt like it inside.  I began begging my dad like never
before, or after, to please let me have him for a pet.  That old
sidewalk barker sure knew his stuff.  There was no way my dad
could say no so I went home with a little box that had a clear
plastic window in the front, air holes punched in the sides of the
small box, and my first chameleon lizard inside.  I was in love.

 From then on, I was always asking how soon before the fair
came back to town.  "I want another lizard.  Can you buy me
another lizard this year, dad?" I always asked long before the
fair came.  I wanted to make certain dad promised to get me one. Üj