“I am at cherch. My mom is practsen for cuier. I put the books on the puse. Today it is May 10 1998.”
Abby dangles her petite legs beneath her. Tracing the strong wooden arches of the pew with her hands, she pictures rolling green hills in her mind. A loud deep chuckling voice awakens her suddenly from the dream.
“May I dare to sit next to you, little girl?”
Soon the yellow haired child is swallowed by a sea of grays and whites.
After church Abby explores the vast trunk of her family’s Ford Explorer. Rushing back to the church, her mind races.
“I want some Holy Water for myself, just like Grandma. Now I can really baptize Blacky!”
But before the second washcloth is fully emerged, she is startled by a fierce painful tug gripping around her wrist.
“What do you think you’re doing young lady?!! That rag doesn’t belong in there!”
Abby felt tears surface on her eyes and slide down her cheeks as she shakily walked back to the car with her soaking washcloths.
“Now that nice old lady I sit with will never like me the same again.
Why was she so mean?
I wasn’t trying to do anything wrong.”
Through her tears, the girl hid the cloths to use later, and told no one else.
