Among Many Pews

Among Many Pewspews

Timid child, tiny chair
Circle time on Sunday
Pretty songs, she smiles.
Dreadful boy looks down
She is ugly, unlikable
a foreigner in his house.
Same room, now cramped.
Lonely. Silent.
Lessons ignored.
She studies the carpet.

The square van comes at six
Welcomes all.
A labyrinth of halls
White walled classrooms.
She takes a chair and listens.
Truth spills, minutes tick.
She is excluded, ignored
No fun and games for her.
Nasty grins, big heads
She moves on, again.

Soft, welcoming
Small and homely.
The smiles, honest.
The classes, engaging.
But God still hides.
She seeks and comes up
short of perfect.
Weary, tedious, Unmoving
She staggers in confusion,
And compromises herself.

A healing service.
Slivers of chills
The moment, electric.
She feels, finally.
Then she sees.
Moment of truth
 Unclean, unlovable
And yet accepted.
She finds within her
In the stillness, God.

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