Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. It is a festivity for all the major social groups: couples, single individuals, and those with eating disorders. For many around the world it is a time to celebrate those who have passed from this life, but for everybody else it is a time to wear the least amount of clothes possible and try to avoid frost bite. Whether it is an overly exposed abundance of flesh or a creepy costume, nothing will scare me this Halloween compared to my recent rendezvous with religion.
I found myself in an unfamiliar chapel for church services. Several laymen expressed their devotion to God and the Holy Writ. The mood was believing and canonical until she made her way to the pulpit.
The slender framed ginger with a forceful chin stood upon the podium and declared, "I became a woman this week." I glanced around to see if anyone else thought that this was a bizarre statement for a 15 year old to be making, but found most of the congregation drooling. She continued.
"I didn't understand why I was bleeding," she announced. I wanted to dissolve into the cushioned pew in horror, shock and awe as she proceeded to inform the throng of innocent worshipers about her loss of vital fluids through the meridional escape route. Panic terrorized my anxiety as an extensive personal account of this young lady's female functions was unfurled and compared to the crimson suffering in the Garden of Gethsemane. I must exclude many of her poignant sentences in fear of being struck by lightening, but the finale came in a spin-chilling aphorism, "He bled for me."
This was by far the spookiest moment of my Halloween holy day.