Is this a religious experience?
Probably not, but it did happen in church. It was Sunday in the small town by the Arkansas river, with mountains all around. In the spring, the town is all aglow with orchard after orchard of apple trees in full bloom. Sunday meant my parents and I went to Sunday School and church, coming home to a fried chicken dinner, with angel food cake, jello with bananas and marshmallows. Sometimes there was company, friends of my parents, or the minister and his wife, and most always one of my girl friends.
The Methodist church is a small, old brick structure on the corner with a tall steeple, complete with a working bell, and a beautiful stained glass windows. You entered through large wooden doors into a big hall called a vestibule, then into the church where the service is held. My mother taught Sunday School, my father attended a fellowship class taught by the minister, and I attended a Sunday School class with my age group, twelve and a half years, taught by my favorite teacher.
After Sunday School, the young peopl, both boys and girls would gather in the vestibule to talk, laugh, and wait to go into church for the service. On this Sunday, a nice looking, immaculately dressed lady, with hat, gloves and matching purse, every hair showing from under her hat in place, stepped into the vestibule. She wore pearls around her neck and pearl earrings. She was one of the leading ladies of the church and the town.
She walked half way into the vestibule when her lacy panties dropped around her feet. She deliberately and gracefully stepped out of them, one foot at a time, bent over, picked them up, opened her purse, put them inside, and closed the purse. With head held high and a graceful motion, she walked into church to attend the survide.
It was as if this happened every Sunday.
There wasn't one laugh or giggle from the group of young people, who would laugh at almost everything. That's when I knew I wanted to handle all situations thrown at me in life with dignity and control. I have tried to do just that, not always succeeding but still trying.
When my two daughters were young, I found lowering my voice, speaking slowly and deliberately, got fast results. My younger daughter and a friend did something they shouldn't. I reprimanded them. The friend said to my daughter, "Your Mother didn't yell".
My daughter replied, "No, but when she talks that low, you better pay attention fast".
Being calm and accepting life's challenges with dignity isn't always easy.
© Copyright 2001, Henrietta Densyer. All rights reserved.