TheWRITEaddiction.com

For years, I watched from the porch as the parade of colors snaked it’s way down the road.  The men would acknowledge me with a tip of the hat.  The women all smiled and the children waved.

They had a joy on their faces that was unexplainable, especially since it was 100 degrees.  They were fully dressed, the men in suits and ties, the women wore stockings, and they were walking.  I surely thought their smiles would melt, but they never did.

The entire congregation. Would gather at the little pond.  They’d sing a song or two.  Then the preacher who had waded into the waist deep water, would beckon for one of the candidates.  He’d whisper in the person’s ear.  The candidate would either whisper back or nod in agreement.  Then, the preacher would silence the crowd with flourish of his hand.  He raised his booming voice and proclaimed:

“Upon the profession of your faith, we do now baptize you, my dear brother.  In the name of the Father, in the name of the Son, and in the name of the Holy Ghost”.

Then he’d dip the person backwards until they were completely submerged and then rip them upright again.

Then the singing would start again.  He’d repeat this exact same process until each of the candidates  had been baptized.  Then he’d climb out of the pond.  The bottom of the robe would be covered in pond muck, but nobody seemed to notice, as they were all fussing over the new members of the church.

It was quite the show.  Every summer, I’d look forward to the parade of colors and the baptism concert.  I never thought I’d be one of those Baptism candidates.  But here I am now, 56 and a grandmother preparing for my own baptism.

The church has since built a baptismal pool.  (Guess thAt building fund paid off after all.). I feel a little silly, lining up with the two little girls and the teenage boy, but I’ve also never been happier in my life.  Just looked in the mirror and caught myself smiling, just like those old ladies in baptism parade used to smile at me.  I finally get it.

As we walk down the aisle toward the baptism pool, I catch myself smiling at the folks in the pews. I remember my 10-year old self watching from my front porch, waving as they passed by.

I miss my little house by the pond. They tore it down a few years ago to make room for some new development. But today, I’ve got a new home, just beyond the river.