Easter


But I never ever liked Easter. Me and my sister were raised in the Pentecostal Church where women wore cornell slips and stockings no matter how hot it was but my granny would let us wear frilly socks instead of stockings if it was too hot because she was afraid we would have a heat stroke! Every woman had to wear a hat or a lace doily because you could not “go into the house of the Lord without yo’ head covered!” and I seemed to out grow my patent leather shoes as fast as the day after they were purchased because they just hurt so badly! And we went to shut-ins and we tarried on our knees. And the deacons would lay hands on people who stood on the prayer lines and knock them down and pour oil all over their heads and a white sheet to cover the women once they passed out from shouting and speaking tongues and running laps around the sanctuary. And we would travel hours away if our pastor was the guest preacher at another church. And we memorized scriptures to recite in Sunday school. And Bible Study was our hang out spot on Tuesdays and Thursdays was choir practice. And I sang solos but always choked because I would forget the words. And all the little girls had a secret boyfriend but it wasn’t so secret because all the adults knew, and you knew they knew because they would say, “Chy {child}, you need to be delivered.” Im not into the whole organizer religion thing now but I can appreciate the foundation it provided me but I still have my tainted memories about old Easter because some years, I couldn’t get a new outfit and I was always embarrassed and ashamed of myself for not having a new dress and shoes like all the other girls. My grandma would always say we did something wrong and, “Y’all ain’t getting nothing for Easter!” That happened around so many holidays and bdays that I started putting two and two together. And as I got older I just felt like all the holidays were more or less a ploy to fuel the economy and so now I don’t celebrate holidays at all, I‘d rather find joy in random small pleasures and make up my own traditions and create my own reasons to get a new dress, which will most likely not be new at all because I thrift.

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