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My Secret Friends

MEMOIR PROJECT ROUGH DRAFT

I remember Rock of Ages ‘71 and marching in the Lord’s Army in front of the stage and all the great music and the intense chronic look of satisfaction and purpose on my mom’s face as she sold her soul The Way International and gave to herself to God as she promised to do at the bottom of the Lake, just inches from the icy hands of death and brought me along on her crusade to redeem and purify her soul. I remember her devotion, passion, dedication, and relentless pursuit of her peers to come to Twig Fellowship and take Dr. Wierwille’s class on Power for Abundant Living. And they did. In great numbers and rented halls, 50, 100 at a time, watching a 16 mm film clicking away while Dr. Wierwille revealed the secrets to Power for Abundant Living to a new generation. To a new era in Christianity. I grew to know Dr. Wierwille’s voice better than my own father’s as I sat in the back of the halls, in the kitchens, in rooms off to the side, on a back patio, anywhere where I could sit quietly and try to find something quiet to do until a break. Coffee percolating in aluminum pots and white sugar cubes and hot water and tea and honey and did I mention white sugar cubes? White sugar cubes. My secret friends. Pure friendship to a little boy waiting patiently for someone to play with. I’d pop one in my mouth then sneak back to my spot. Then sneak back and pop in another. Break! The cigarettes would come out and the lighters light and smoke fill the hall and the coffee smell would mix with cream and sugar and the hall would be alive with excitement and questions and intense purpose. It felt good to feel so secure. But we all are just standing on the edge of an ice flow ready to break away at any time, but still, if felt secure and for the time it was. And it should be enjoyed when it is. And we did enjoy it. Break is over. Refills and the hall quiets, and the lights dim, the projector rolls, and Dr. Wierwille’s southernish preacher drawl says, “In this class on Power for Abundant Living, I will teach you the word of God as it hasn’t been taught since the 1st century church…” My third birthday took place during a break in a session of the PFAL class. Some friend of my mom gave me a toy like a clock with arms going round and round over windows that opened to reveal shapes and letters. Everyone hugged me and kissed me and told me how special I was and wished me happy birthday and God Bless and rubbed my head and made me feel wonderful and comforted. And I got some cake with my secret sugar cubes.

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© 2006 Christian Cloud Abraham

Posted on July 30, 2006 in
Emotion: Tender, Type: Creative Nonfiction