About week after arriving in the UK…off to church we go, the lady and I. I felt as if the whole world knew I was sad and I felt everyone was laughing at me as I walked down the street in my Sunday best. I had on a duffle coat it was dark brown. The one paddington bear used to wear.
I arrived in the church, it was full, there were loads of children, but they all had siblings. I felt so alone I sat quietly by the lady they called my mother. The church erupted into music and songs and worship. She gave me a tambourine and I started to hit it against my hand. At first the little silver thimbles hurt my a hand as I didn’t know how to do it. But I continued to make the clanging sound as I was told to do. Children were going to the front to do all kind of performance whilst their proud mothers watched. Some sang, others read the bible.
Then the unthinkable happened. I heard my name well it sounded like my name, but it couldn’t be my name. This was my first time. I looked around but no one went up, then I realized everyone was turning around looking at me, I felt my knees shaking and I felt my chest getting hot, and then I felt it a poke in my side. The lady they called my mother told me to get up and read a scripture. Why? Does this lady hate me? Why?.
I got up and walked slowly to the front of the church with my head bowed, I heard some sniggers, whilst others clapped. I didn’t want to do it, but I didn’t want a beaten when I reached home. Someone handed me a bible and I turned to the first chapter I saw. All eyes were on me, but no one saw my tears.
“Make a joyful noise unto The Lord all he lands, serve The Lord with goodness come before him with praise know that it is he whom made us and not we ourselves, we are his people and the sheep of his pastures enter into his gates with thanksgiving and through his courts with praises, be thankful unto him and bless his name. For The Lord is good is mercy is everlasting and and his truth endure the to all generations.”
Once I read it, I walked back to my chair whilst everyone clapped. I was hoping the lady they called my mother was proud of my reading, but she said nothing but carried on singing to the next song that played.. “She hates me” I thought… The rest of service was pleasant in a funny sort of way. I felt that her god was with me. Bible reading was now a prominent part of my a world. I liked to read the stories in the bible especially the ones about gods miracles. Secretly I guess I wanted him to do a miracle for me also. And so I waited..