Jerry and Ginny invited me to their spacious apartment for my first Thanksgiving away from family. They were new college graduates and newly married, gregarious and generous. Ginny, who taught fourth grade, was the person who encouraged me to join a gym with her and also to be her co-worker in the church nursery, a job I agreed to only if she would handle diaper changes. Jerry taught math and coached football and basketball as well, I think. Ginny was on her first solo flight cooking her first turkey, in those perilous days before You Tube might teach her how to do so. But she did beautifully. I don’t remember what I took to augment the meal, but it would have been something basic. I also don’t clearly remember who else was invited, but there were other teachers around the table. Later, we watched television and played board games. I later learned not to play with Jerry, who took even Monopoly seriously and was a sore loser. I was so troubled by his attitude about winning that I stopped playing board games altogether, even if he wasn’t there. The holidays were oddly out of sync for me, because the city and its mall decorated for Christmas in familiar ways, but the sun continued to shine. There were no leaves changing colors and falling; there was no snow.
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Baptist GirlI was a conservative Baptist girl who grew up to become a career Christian, working first in a Baptist school and then in a Baptist college. For about three decades, it was very good until it wasn’t, and I had to leave. But the Baptists formed me. This is my homage to the good times and good people of the world I left, finally, at forty-three, when I became an Episcopalian. These are my memories; others might disagree with my recollections. So be it. Archives
January 2024
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