Holy Cellar

imageAs punishment for beibg a ungrateful Tramp selfish bitch of a teen girl I was taken to the white church on the hill.  This very church was built by my family when they arrived from Italy to canada.  My own blood and sweat created this place of worship to the  God they belived in.  I remember driving up the hill that day Id seen this church my whole life and I knew the proud stories of great faith and kindness they practiced Christianity in all its greatness, that powerful, this would be the first time I would be inside.  Nothing was said as we entered the vestibule up the stairs to the right and there it was.  Simple wood benches hand made, canoe like ceiling the simple charm of humble beliefs.  Immediately I saw the simple raw wood cross behind a solid plain alter.  There he stood a man of God.

He invited me to sit and you keft to go shopping.  He introduced himself his friendly radiant face was ironically friendly I knew something was not ok like a spooked doe pure instinct.  He handed me a blue and grey sold soft leather bible.  The sides of the thin pages closed glistened silver those pages are a foundation of faith I did not know or understand.  I held that bible in my hands on my lap.  He began to talk and share the simple basics of the word of God.  The session lasted for a hour as I sat in freight learning something unknown.  As I got up to go to the car he said to me “I will save your soul dear”. That sat wrong.  No words exchanged the whole drive back as if that didn’t happen.  In the back of the cavalier was bags of clothing brand new, so excited as I pulled them out I saw skirt after skirt  so confused I had not worn such things since I was 3.  This will be what you wear from now on. We stood there shocked as you took all our jeans and gave the new instructions.  No pants no shorts sleeves, hair up and long no makeup and bible study when scheduled.  This would stop the foolishness for our own good.  The first day I got on that bus in this getup was like walking in someone’s shadow a disguise a spy into a secret group in our community.  We all heard the tales the outfits The private group of Christian extremists.  The looks and questions that day overwhelming from goth to Pentecost.

It wasn’t long and we were dropped of often at the pastors home with his wife sister she asked to be called.  Everyone was to be refered to as brother and sisters.  The studies could last days with sleep overs upstairs with the children.  Sister was teaching me how to style my hair these old fashioned buns and braids.  Sister was showing me how to act and look as a Christian soldier.  We heard the stories the love the miracles I was so uncomfortable I couldn’t even look in the mirror, halloween dress up looked back.  One day sister was not home when I got off the bus I went inside to wait the Christian homework would keep me busy.  Pastor came home from prayer and he cooked up super we ate and he preached.  As he talked louder and louder he stands up suddenly the chair grinding on the old wood floor as.  Come it’s time I show you the cellar.  I follow in to the hallway there was a Hindge in the floor a cut out door to the storage pantry.  Tiny steep steps go down into the mud room.  The lights go on and there was the worship alter.  Pastor spent hours down there talking and praying to God and recieving his messages and inspiration for services.  He sent his family down to pray in private as well.  Just you and God no distractions.  As pastor walked up the stairs match in his hand smoking from lighting The candles.  You go ahead now and talk to our father Jesus christ.  The big bible was open to scripture and I sat in the wee high back chair.  I read those words and I felt the urge to confess.  The water slowly running down the cellar walls I closed my eyes and I confessed.  I begged for help I begged for the pain to stop I begged for freedom I begged for forgiveness I wept at the thought of anyone may it be the Holy Ghost.

I needed someone to talk to and in that time I talked to the wind in hopes my voice may be heard.

Soon it would be the youth Pentecost convention in St. John tgere I would recieve the Holy Ghost I was told he would bless me heal me and speak through me.  I’d heard the believers speak in touches every single service IT scared me, the running and jabbering.  Jumping up and down screaming it was intense with so many congregation member.  This would be the place father would bless me.  The pastor and sister just knew it God was filling them with love to guide me.

the convention..

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s