Translate

GOING TO MAGDALENA....A CHILD'S DISCERNMENT...(No church)

Our family was adjusting to Albuquerque.  I had new friends; Dad liked his job; Bronco, in his four-year-old way, was always happy; and Mom neighbored with the ladies on the block.
  One neighbor, in particular, visited Mom often.  Sometimes on Saturdays they would sit at the kitchen table and have coffee.  One subject they always discussed was " religion".  Mom’s friend blamed the nervous breakdown her sister had suffered on “getting too religious.”  After one of these visits Mom said to me, “A person has to be careful not to go overboard on religion.  A lot of people have lost their minds that way.”
Despite the warnings on religion.  I missed the Presbyterian Church in Philipsburg and the Bible stories of Jesus, the friend of every child.
I walked up the driveway of our new home.  With its one level and attached garage, it faced east.  Mom said we could watch the sun come up from the living room and watch it set from the kitchen.  The house was clean and crisp with its white paint and green trim. 
 I felt a sense of pride as I looked at the green lawn.  I had helped by watering it to keep it damp, after Dad sowed the Kentucky Blue Grass seed.  He used string and stakes to make a barrier around the yard to ward off any treading feet.  Within days, tiny blades of grass had pushed their way through the soil and we watched as it grew and thickened, making a rich velvety carpet.  The back yard still had its original bareness.  Dad said that eventually we would plant grass there also.
The oak hardwood floor shown bright as I opened the front door.  Mom was especially pleased with the wooden floors that graced every room except the bathroom and kitchen.
          The living room, with its light green walls, complimented the gold furniture and the white brick fireplace built into the north wall.  I laid my books in the gold rocker and followed the voices I heard coming from the kitchen.
          The dining area and kitchen were one long room, partitioned by a counter.  The walls were white, and gold curtains, over west windows, accented the brown and gold linoleum.  Every room in the house had the fresh smell of newness.
          Mom was working at the counter making sandwiches, and Bronco sat at the oak table coloring with his crayons.
         
 “Look at the bird I colored, Glory,” he said proudly, as he help up his artwork for me to see.
          “That’s really good,” I said with extra approval in my voice.
          Satisfied with my attention he returned to his artistry.
          “Hi Mom,” I said as I opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a carton of milk.
          “Hi honey.  We’re picking Dad up at work and going to Magdalena to spend the night,” she said as she watched me pour the milk, “Be sure to lay out an extra set of clothes so I can pack them with mine.”
          “Ok,” I answered as I picked up a sandwich.  I frowned as I thought of going to Magdalena.  I sat next to Bronco and bit into the soft bread.  Almost every weekend we visited Grandma and Grandpa Williams.  I was bored there at times, but what really bothered me were the disagreements between Dad and Mom that often followed. 
          “Wanda,” Dad would begin, “I’d like to look at the Wilson’s place.  I’ve been told we could get a good price for it.  They’ve been trying to find a buyer for sometime now and...”
          “Slim, we’ve gone over this before,” Mom said with exasperation, “It isn’t that I wouldn’t enjoy living on a ranch.  I just don’t think it would work living that close to relatives.”
          “I don’t know why you feel that way.  My folks have been good to us.”  From his tone, it was evident that Dad was becoming irritated.
          “I feel they’ve never accepted Gloria or me,” Mom’s voice cracked with emotion.
          I was deep in thought as I drank the cold milk.  I decided to be very observant when we went to Grandma’s.  I’d see if they really did treat Mom and me differently.