“…and love does conquer all,” the preacher concluded in his husky voice. There was thunderous applause from the congregation as his message was very well received. I did not clap though.
I was there because Naomi had somehow forced me to honor her invitation for a youth program at her church. Well, how could I refuse when she had been dangling a dinner treat before me? If I had known this was what to look forward to, I would have adamantly refused and not budged an inch.
To think that I had just spent four hours listening to the preacher drawl on about how the love of God should be shared among us as it was the bond that will keep us going. That God loved everyone equally and had thoughts of good towards us. And that each of us carried the image of God within. And yet from that same crowd, I could almost physically feel the waves of contempt directed at me – the barely disguised side looks, the derisive snorts – like I was the Devils’ assistant!
If we did carry the image of God, why did they all judge on sight? Why was I automatically the devil’s spawn because of my appearance? Well, the tattoos, skimpy outfit, and bold makeup did not help my case, I’d guess. I did not care, of course! I simply was… dead to it.
I hid my emotions perfectly even when I smiled and waved at a baby, sitting on her mother’s laps a row from me, and the mother gave me a glare that could melt stone. Or the elderly lady at my side who pointed at me and whispered to a little girl, probably her granddaughter saying, “stay away from that bad lady, she’s the devil’s own.” It was supposed to a whisper, but considering how I heard it, maybe the intention had been to have me hear.
I did not cry. I was long past that, and there were no tears left to shed.
Naomi said she saw good in me, pure goodness regardless of what people said. I laughed and called her an emotional wreck. She was determined to change me. How disillusioned she was! I still wondered what she saw in me, broken as I was. No matter how she forced me to attend church meetings, the cold stares from people that followed me every day would never change.
I was not always like this. I once was had bright dreams and saw life through the eyes of a baby until reality snapped me out of that. Once, life was beautiful, but that beauty had since faded away when I was forced against my will to make hard choices to survive and take care of my baby sister. Most of all, I did it so that my sister never had to be in the position where she had to make those choices I did. Her future was going to be written in stars when mine was in ashes. I did not regret it. I knew I would toe that path again if I had to.
When she held my hands tight as we walked out of the church in front of everyone, I felt something! I was scared, more scared than I had ever been. She was breaking down the walls of defense I had erected for years- the iron bricks hardened against any emotion. This little action spoke more to me than she would have guessed. If she could see the real me behind the entire facade, maybe someone else could.
So, maybe the preacher was right. Her unconditional love and acceptance was the deal-breaker. Just maybe, I could find myself again.
For the first time, I looked up, and the sun was shining.
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Love,
Diane.
