http://www.oocities.org/thisismysong1/coverindex.html><TITLE><head>THIS IS MY SONG: THE STORY OF A WOMAN
CHURCHLADIES WHO SWEAR


My job was at a place called Commercial Controls

where they made justowriters and flexowriters

and I was the gofer girl.


All the ladies at work

took me under their wing.


Bernice

who called herself Bernie


a big woman with long grey hair

and a red round face

who used a swear word in every sentence


took charge of me.



She gave me a radio

so that I wouldn't oversleep

and miss the bus

and be late to work again

and get yelled at my Mr. Silverman.


She cut off my curls

and gave me a "bob"

so that I would look more modern.



The Welcome mat was always out for me

to visit at any of the ladies houses

where I might have spaghetti

or meatloaf

or even seafood!


They taught me how to bowl

and to smoke

and to wear makeup.


We went shopping

at a big department store

for the first time ever in my life


and I was so amazed

because it seemed to me that there were

miles and miles

of racks and counters

of gorgeous things to buy.



I stood under those sparkling overhead lights

with music swirling around me

and hustle-bustle

and excitement

and bought myself a yard-long string of pearls.


I had no place to wear them

and Bernie and everybody laughed at me

but they showed me how to loop the pearls

and knot them

and I was thrilled.


It was my very first piece of jewelry.



One day I was sitting in the break room

and I had the strangest feeling

that it wasn't really me

sitting there with a cigarette hanging out of my mouth

laughing at a joke about sex.


It was a survival thing, though

and I knew it.


These ladies were churchladies

because they looked after me

and petted me

and gave me whatever they could spare

of their food

love

laughs



the only difference was

they were churchladies who swore.



I knew that I should be strong

and stand up for my beliefs

and pray for help in resisting temptation

and bring my Bible to work

and say Grace before I ate


but I also knew that if I did that

I would be sitting alone

in the breakroom

and in my room at the Y.



So even though I was ashamed of myself before the Lord

I was scared to be alone.



Music Playing: Wild Thing
This page contains copyrighted material
©2001

GO TO CHAPTER 14



HOME




This story is a continuation of Diary of a Preacher's Daughter.
For earlier stories, click on my banner


Click on my award to see my dear friend Sam's lovely site: