Tuesday, March 03, 2009

Giving (up)

That's the theme this month for NABLOPOMO. I'm not participating for the month but I am going to leach the topic.

There are a lot of ways this could go especially with that up in parenthesis. This being the season of Lent and all, may people are in the sacrificing mode. When I think of "Giving Up" I think of Sister Naomi. Poor Sister Naomi, now I feel for her. Then I just plain hated her. Yes, mother, I know hate is a strong word that should never be used. You always preferred when we disliked something/one a lot v. hating . But I plain hated Sister Naomi that Freshman year of high school. She's the whole reason I wasn't invited back! It had nothing to do with me, it was her and her nit-picky ways. But I'm over it. Really, I am. Sister Naomi taught is Fr. Religion, Spanish and was my dorm monitor. Honestly, I don't know how her red hair didn't turn white on our tour there. I know it was red because one night we caused such a ruckus she came running out of her room and her habit wasn't quite right and we saw her red hair - shocker, I know. What does this have to do with giving up!?

Sister Naomi would walk around and whenever she heard any of us fussing, fighting, or huffing about anything she would waive her hands at us up in the air and say "Give it up ladies! Give it up to save those poor souls!" You see, the ONLY thing I remember about Fr. Religion class was learning about all the poor souls of unbaptised babies sitting in purgatory waiting. Just waiting to get into heaven. These would be all the aborted babies and all the stillborn babies and all the babies that died because their mommas abandoned them. She would frightfully explain to us that it was to no fault of the children that they had to suffer so. It was all because of the parents' lack of faith. So, we had to offer up/give up all of our suffering for the repose of those babies souls so that through our suffering we take on their burdens and they could get into heaven.

Can you imagine? I was what, 13 years old picturing a waiting room the size of the heavens full of babies waiting to be let into heaven. Eventually, I thought about it and would question her to the point of exasperation Why would those children be punished so if it wasn't their fault and our God is all-loving and merciful. I didn't understand and have never been able to reconcile this concept. Even my mother would tease me about it when she wanted to push my buttons. She'd tell me to give it up for the babies and I would roll my eyes at her and we'd laugh. Even in the end when my mother was in the hospital dying. She told her best friend and I that she prayed everyday that God give her one more day of suffering this horrible disease in the hopes that it would spare a child from the same suffering. And I quipped back at her what about all those babies? We laughed until we cried and tried to explain it to her BF in between fits of tears and laughter.

Honestly, between Sister Naomi and the priest who later taught my religion class senior year, who told me that I was going to burn in hell for eternal damnation (I don't even remember his name!), I don't' know how I didn't convert to something else. Lazy, I guess, just didn't want to take the time to look into anything else. So, there you go Sister Naomi, I know we gave you h-e-double l that year. Sorry we put you through it. I'm sure you have long since passed on and are probably rolling over in your grave. Just give it up for the babies, Sister.

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