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It was Holy Communion, which 1) I have only ever done once before about 3 weeks ago and it was a very enlightening experience; and 2) I wanted to give my all this time, which was not possible with a wriggling boy. With this in mind I decided to be brave and take him to the church crèche. I was heart-broken at the thought of leaving him and could not hold back my tears. I felt very silly in front of all the people in the little room but braved it on, put him down on the floor, and left the room.
The talk by the vicar was extremely interesting about how we make choices, whether right or wrong, and how they shape us into who we are today. I thought at the time “this is surreal, this is all about me”. I wanted to take in as much as possible.
Thinking about it now, I have come to realize one of the reasons why I find it so difficult to leave my children is that I have a very hard time cutting the cord, all down to childhood. You would think third time round it would be a bit easier. I have left Wilson
Now let’s get back to this flash back. It was when I was only a little girl, 11 years old to be exact. I was looking after my one year old little sister at the time and had been asked by a Christian School Friend Angel to come along to her church. I jumped at the chance, bearing in mind, when I was little, although my family did not like Christianity or church; I seemed to have been drawn to Christianity. I went to Christian Fellowship at high school, studied religious Studies for my G.C.S.E’s and went to Sunday school with my brothers and sisters when we got kicked out the house.
I remember dressing up my little baby sister in her beautiful christening gown. She looked beautiful. I loved my little sister and enjoyed looking after her all the time. When we got to church the adults insisted that they take her away from me and put her in the crèche. I did not like this at all, but what could I have done? I was just a little girl myself. I was brought up to respect adults, so unwilling and with tears in my eyes I handed her over. I felt so sick and empty inside I really did not want to be there. I didn’t know what to do. Ten minutes into the church services one of the church elders came back with my little sister and said she had been crying hysterically for the whole time. Well that made me feel even worst. I had been given the responsibly of looking after her and I had failed in my mothers eyes and my little baby sister eyes too. How could they have forgiven me? Of course I never told my mother, she didn’t even know I had gone to church; in fact I don’t think she even cared.
No wonder I felt emotional about leaving Wilson
I think I need to remain positive about these experiences and know that the journey into Christianity will be a bit like riding a massive emotional rollercoaster; will be tough at times; but ultimately rewarding.
