Church

Mom thought going to church might help me become more like the other Mary, you know the one that was not so Contrary.

We went to the church my Grandfather liked to go to. We always had to sit in the same pew. Unfortunely for me, in the pew in front of us was a little girl with long braids that hung down the back of the bench. As hard as I tried I did not like this little girl. Every Sunday something would come over me and I would grab her braids and fall to the floor.She would let out a scream and the next thing I knew I was headed for the church doors pulled by my Mother so fast my feet did not touch the floor .

I thought part of going to church was to go to the car in the parking lot for a spanking.

Out of frustration Mom decided to take us to the church my Grandma went to. My first Sunday, I was sitting quietly when a man passed me a plate of money. I grabbed two hands full of money and I knew I liked this church already, till Mom started slapping my hands trying to make me drop the money. I hung on for dear life screaming how he had given me the money.

And wouldn't you know it, out the door I went with my feet not touching the ground to the car in the parking lot for my sabbath day spanking.