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I opened
the heavy wooden door and peered inside the
Catholic Church. It was shady and cool as I entered, placing my scarf around
my head. There were dim lights burning near the front of the sanctuary. It
was quiet, peaceful and empty. I sat in a back pew and listened to the hush. A
few minutes passed before a priest came through a side door. I hurriedly
slipped out of the heavy front door into the bright sunlight. The priest might
have asked me why I was there and what I wanted.
“What did I want? What was I searching for? I was curious about the large, impressive structure that bore a cross on its steeple. I had started bringing a scarf to school with me, because I had seen my friends wearing scarves as they entered their church. On my way home from school I slipped unnoticed into the church.
Catholic Church. It was shady and cool as I entered, placing my scarf around
my head. There were dim lights burning near the front of the sanctuary. It
was quiet, peaceful and empty. I sat in a back pew and listened to the hush. A
few minutes passed before a priest came through a side door. I hurriedly
slipped out of the heavy front door into the bright sunlight. The priest might
have asked me why I was there and what I wanted.
“What did I want? What was I searching for? I was curious about the large, impressive structure that bore a cross on its steeple. I had started bringing a scarf to school with me, because I had seen my friends wearing scarves as they entered their church. On my way home from school I slipped unnoticed into the church.
Most
of my friends were catholic, and they would talk about going to mass. They seemed to enjoy their religion, and if
anyone asked them what church they belonged to, they would proudly say, “I’m
Catholic”. Our family had not attended
church since we left Philipsburg. Mom
said a person could worship anywhere and especially in the great out of
doors. However, we never worshipped in
or out of doors. I felt a
void...something was missing. I had made
up my mind!
“I’m
going to become Catholic,” I announced to Mom when I got home. Mom’s eyes widened and it took her a few minutes
to find her tongue.
“You
can’t! We’re...we’re Presbyterian,” she
stammered.
“We
never go to church.”
“I
want you to talk to a minister!” Mom said firmly.
The
next day, after school, Reverend Whitney came to our house. He was the Methodist minister. (Later when I asked Mom why he wasn’t
Presbyterian, she said the denominations believed the same.)
“Gloria,
have you been baptized?” the balding man asked, as he studied me through thick
glasses.
“You
mean in water?”
“We
don’t immerse, we sprinkle with water.
Have you ever been baptized?”
“No
sir.”
“Your
mother tells me you want to become Catholic.
Is that right?”
“Well,
yes sir...I’ve been thinking about it,” I answered.
“Gloria,
beginning next week on Tuesday evenings, I’m going to have a two hour study on
Catholicism. Will you come?”
“Well...I
don’t know, “I hesitated. I had no
desire to sit for two hours and listen to a study. I turned toward Mom. She shook her head to the affirmative.
“I
guess so,” I sighed.
“I
strongly urge you Gloria, to be baptized in your faith. Has everyone else in the family been
baptized?” he asked Mom, as he peered over his spectacles.
“No.”
“The
rest of the family should be sprinkled also,” he said firmly.
The
following Tuesday evening, under Mom’s insistent urging, I sat with six other
people and listened to the minister expound against Catholicism. He spoke of atrocities performed through
history. But, he never mentioned other barbarism done in the name of Protestantism. His gaze, through his thick glasses, kept
returning to me, as if he wanted to be sure I was getting the message. I listened, but what he was saying didn’t
sound like my Catholic friends!
Two
weeks later, on a Sunday morning, Mom, Deryl, Bronco and I stood in front of
the Methodist Church.
I was holding the new white Bible Mom and Deryl had given me. Our family vowed our belief and was
sprinkled. We attended faithfully, until
Deryl was asked to be a deacon a few months later. We quit attending. Deryl and Mom said, “They expected too much
too soon!”
It would be years before I attended church again.
It would be years before I attended church again.
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| Deryl |
Mom took the pictures. Our house in Socorro, New Mexico. We were all going to be baptized
 |
| Bronco and Gloria |
.
