Coal River Road
38° 22’ 53”N, 81° 51’ 36”W
Today I call myself a BaptiPresbyMethoEpiscoChristipalian because I tried every one of these denominations on for size in my nearly 60 years. However, I can trace the roots of my religious influence.
They sprouted with help from my Great Grandmother, G.G. for short. She, King James with his Bible, and the Lower Falls Baptist Church did their best to set me on the path of righteousness.
G.G. lived with us and even though a widow and in her 60s, her bedroom was fairytale-esque. What wasn’t white was pink, including the shag carpet. But her bedroom was the best. It’s where time slowed down.
She would read passages from a Bible, like bedtime stories. I laid beside her on her bed, pink comforter pulled to my chin. When there was a verse she felt I should memorize, she would uncap her red Flair® pen and trace along a ruler, underlining the words for emphasis.
I relished the defiance of writing in a Bible. I thought it was a big no-no. She let me press the four-leaf-clovers we would find on our walks within the pages, too. We were rebels.
The 13th chapter in the book of I Corinthians, became a favorite because it was about love, an emotion, at seven-years-old, I struggled to define.
