I knew what Jesus looked like. His picture was on the back of my pocket mirror. I had won this trinket quite handily at Sunday School. Chipmunk cheeks chock full of Hubba Bubba bubble gum, I had blown more bubbles in one minute than any of the other third graders.
Never questioning the accuracy of this visage, I thought Jesus looked a bit like a hippie. His light brown hair fell in perfect, soft waves to his shoulders. He was looking slightly off to the side like one of those bad 70’s school photos. I think the artist was shooting for an angelic look, but instead, the sad, blue eyes just looked fragile.