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| Portrait of the author by Susan C. Price |
By W.M. Dean
The preacher concluded his sermon and stretched his arms out to the people. "Now, loved ones, as the choir sings 'Softly and Tenderly,' won't you come up and be saved?"
A shiver passed through Patsy's body. She knew Jesus was waiting for her. He felt so close tonight. The sadness of the week since Brother Smith's previous Sunday night invitation, which she hadn't accepted, was about to be lifted, she knew. The bonds that tied her to the pew and held her in her sinful ways, tonight would be severed.
The choir began to sing. "Sof-tly and ten-der-ly Je-sus is cal-ling...."
Her younger brother and her mother and father stood between her and the aisle. Why hadn't she sat on the end? She could hear footsteps in the church. People were moving.
"Now, while every head is bowed and every eye is closed. Don't be afraid."
Was she afraid? In her heart she had already taken this step. Going up wasn't important. She had prayed to Jesus last night. Her friends wanted her to go with them to the picture show, but she had stayed home to read the Book of John.
But wasn't she already saved? John said that all you had to do was believe in Jesus. That's what Brother Smith said too. But he always had these calls to the altar. There'd be Brother Blakeship and Brother Brown or Brother Harris to get down on their knees with you and help you get close to Jesus. Maybe even get the Holy Ghost.
Patsy shivered again. There was something. She was sure she didn't have the Holy Ghost. Did she have to get that?
"Cal-ling, oh, sin-ner, come home...."
Yes, a sinner, that was what she was. She may have stayed home last night, but she had wanted to go with her friends. She thought about them a lot as she was trying to understand about The Word.
"Dear friends, won't you let Jesus wash you clean? Let his blood purify you and make you new? Don't hold back. Every head is bowed and every eye is closed. You can come up here in the privacy of your own heart. Don't you need Jesus?"
Oh, yes, she needed Jesus.
Her brother wriggled in his seat. Was he going up? That was hard to believe.
He nudged her. Through a cracked eyelid she verified that, yes, he was getting up. "Let's go," he whispered.
Her eyes opened wider. "What?"
"Let's go out."
She felt a stab. "No. You can go on," she said. "I have to go up."
He giggled and looked puzzled. Half closing his eyes, he glanced up toward the front of the hall.
Patsy nodded. Her brother didn't move, but stayed in his seat, to see what would happen.
Now she'd committed herself. Patsy's cheeks blazed. She was no longer free.
Had she intended to go up or not? She didn't know.
All her thoughts were tumbling around like inside her mother's washing machine, falling on each other, tangled.
Time was speeding up.
Or was it slowing down?
Oh, Jesus, help me, she thought. Take my hand.
It would be so nice just to be with Jesus. The men up at the altar frightened her. What would they say to her? What would they do?
The choir stopped singing. Patsy looked up and saw that Brother Smith had stepped down from the pulpit and was now with Brother Blakeship and Brother Brown and the three or four (no more?) people who'd come up to be saved. He was getting down on his knees to pray.
Many of the people around her were raising their voices in prayer. Others were dispersing and heading toward the rear. Quite a few had already left. Her mother's arms were raised and trembling in a supplicating prayer. Her father had probably gone out for a smoke.
Patsy looked again at her bewildered brother. She smiled at him and took his hand.
"Okay, let's go out," she said.
_______________
Copyright © 2014 by Morris Dean
The vignette was written 42 years ago. The author and many other children were Patsy, and still other children continue to be patsies yet.
| Comment box is located below |
Blurb: "The editor of Moristotle & Co. offers one of his own fiction stories, one written many years ago, when he was not quite the same person. Let's refer to him as W.M. Dean."
ReplyDeleteDon't tell---you were the little brother weren't you?
ReplyDeleteI wrote it so long ago, I really don't remember to what extent I put myself into the character Patsy. I'm pretty sure that the indecision portrayed was an invention, but I suppose that I must have gone through something like it when I was deciding whether to go up and "accept Jesus," which I did at age 12, in Petaluma, California. As I recall, the preacher on the occasion was a visiting hotshot. He even had a ventriloquist act to enhance his appeal. (I don't think I'm imagining that.) "Hotshot," of course, is me talking fifty years later, having decided that all those 12-year-old religious soul-searchings were and continue to be a sad result of misguided parenting.
DeleteI went through something like you describe much later!
DeleteLove you
I didn't know you had written this. Was is always Patsy in the story? I went through something like this years later.
I felt the call, but had not the courage,.
1
Patsy, yes, the character was always named "Patsy." I wrote it for a writing class I was taking in San Jose in 1971. Another writing assignment turned into the first paper I wrote about technical writing: "Invoking the Muse of Technical Writing," which was published in the journal of the Society for Technical Communication and won an award that year for "Distinguished Technical Publication."
DeleteFor the vignette, though, I didn't realize until its publication that the noun "patsy" has a special connotation and meaning for me from my later perspective. Did you read the lines below the copyright line?
When I wrote the piece, it didn't have a title, and "Patsy" wasn't the title I at first thought of for publication here—"Indecision" was. But I realized that "Indecision" was too obvious and not very interesting. When the noun "patsy" jumped out at me, I knew that "Patsy" would be perfect, for it embodied my perspective now, over 40 years after writing the piece. And there was a nice double-entendre: her name was "Patsy" and she was a patsy.
That is, as I've said before in other contexts, what people believe when it comes to religion is almost always what "their people" taught them. They are all "patsies," taken in by someone else's beliefs, NO MATTER WHAT THEY ARE, and they can never be objectively justified; they're propped up by myth and hearsay.
It didn't hurt you, you were always destined become the cynical old fart that you are. Hell, look at me; I've been dunked in three different churches. You have to first taste the pudding before you can said it tastes good or bad.
ReplyDeleteAnd happy birthday, Jim. You are now eligible to join the cynical old farts club. We don't have meeting---we don't think they would do any good. We don't have dues because we think the money would be wasted. We pretty much just piss on camp fires.
I forgot to put a [smiley face] in belongs at the end. [smile]
DeleteJim, as you have likely gathered already, (1) Ed speaks his mind, and (2) it's pretty much always only HIS mind that he speaks. [smiley face]
DeleteDidn't hurt? Oh, and what makes you think so?
ReplyDeleteAnd all the emotional energy (and time) that went into unproductive soul-searching could have been put to constructive use.
As an indication of what "constructive use" might be, I'll quote from a marketing blurb from Sam Harris for his wife's new book, I Wonder:
DeleteI am very happy to announce that my wife and editor, Annaka Harris, has published her first book. The purpose of I Wonder is to teach very young children (and their parents) to cherish the feeling of “not knowing” as the basis of all discovery. In a world riven by false certainties, I can think of no more important lesson to impart to the next generation.
Advance Praise for I Wonder:
“I Wonder offers crucial lessons in emotional intelligence, starting with being secure in the face of uncertainty. Annaka Harris has woven a beautiful tapestry of art, storytelling, and profound wisdom. Any young child—and parent—will benefit from sharing this wondrous book together.”
—Daniel Goleman, author of the #1 bestseller Emotional Intelligence
“I Wonder captures the beauty of life and the mystery of our world, sweeping child and adult into a powerful journey of discovery. This is a book for children of all ages that will nurture a lifelong love of learning. Magnificent!”
—Daniel Siegel, author of Mindsight and The Whole-Brain Child
“I Wonder is a delightful book that explores and encourages the playful beginnings of wonder and a joyful appreciation of natural mystery.”
—Eric Litwin, author of the #1 New York Times bestselling children’s book, I Love My White Shoes and Pete the Cat
“This marvelous book will successfully sustain and stimulate your child’s natural sense of curiosity and wonder about this mysterious world we live in.”
—V.S. Ramachandran, author of The Tell-Tale Brain: A Neuroscientist’s Quest for What Makes Us Human
“I Wonder is a reminder to parents and their children that mysteries are a gift and that curiosity and wonderment are the treasures of a childlike mind.”
—Janna Levin, Professor of Physics and Astronomy, Columbia University, and author of How The Universe Got Its Spots
“I Wonder teaches the very young that we should marvel at the mysteries of the universe and not be afraid of them. Our world would be a lot better if every human understood this. Start with your own children and this book.”
—Jeff Hawkins, founder of Palm, Handspring, and the Redwood Neuroscience Institute, and author of On Intelligence
Wow, that’s really something, Morris. Really. I gotta tell you: I was on the edge of my seat.
ReplyDeleteOr should I say PEW?
It’s got some power.