When God Came

When I was in the fifth grade
I had what I thought was a visit
from God. Every Wednesday morning
was mass before school. It was
a hot day in late Spring;
in Florida, that meant the air
was as thick as soup and had
its own weight to bear down on you.
A few minutes into the service,
sitting in my pew, I began to feel
extremely light headed. I saw
flashing colored lights; the edges
of my vision turned to static.
The next thing I knew I was
waking up in the nurse's office.
She looked very worried. When she
asked what happened I told her
I had been visited by the lord.
She pressed me a little further
then chuckled and said, "Sweetie,
you passed out. From the heat.
Have you been drinking your water?"
I dismissed her assertion, which
she found even more comical.
This was the same woman who had
told my class the month before
that men like women's breasts
because they remind them of
their mothers. I didn't know
what to think. It sounded to me
like she didn't believe God would
visit a boy such as myself.
I mean, all I really wanted,
in her eyes, was to be near
my mother's breasts; why would
God think to visit my lowliness?
Within a couple of years, in
thinking back on the event, I
was somewhat ashamed. Still I
wonder if he wouldn't come
because of the whole breast thing
or simply because there is no God.

(2008)