Cleaning up my computer, I found a story a member of the board posted (and I do apologize, I never wrote down who it was) - being touched by the story, I saved it on my computer. If the member who wrote this happens to take credit for it, by all means, go for it! (and then let me know if it is okay I posted this...)
[quote]Unfortunatley, i am stuck within the business of the food industry, moslty waiting tables. Yesterday a very old, about 87 id say, grand mother strolls in. Mind you she had no walker, no cane, drank 2 32oz Blue Moon draft beers, and ate an entire plate of Catfish, including salad and Charro beans. It was the end of my shift, so i ask her if i can clean up. She says yes, and i began the tedious task of sweeping up peanut shells and the microscopic dust that it seems i can never see. As im sweeping, the lets forth the stragest analogy for religion iv ever heard:
"Yah know boy, Christianity is like this bowl of Charro Beans here. Something very simple; beans. At one time, very little people liked beans. As more people began to eat it, it became more and more popular. Of course people didnt want just one bean, they wanted all kinds of different beans! Soon, there were all a matter of beans were being discovered, used in different ways, and had a multitude of other things added to the wee, little bean. After eating beans for a time or two, people grow bored, and some people even begin to hate beans, may it be for the fact it was force fed to them as a kid, or it just doesnt suit their pallet. Something simple, complicated in every fashionable way."
I ask her, best you know i had already drawn from the analogy her point, how Christianity was like the beans?
"At one time, Christianity was so delightfully simple, that anyone could do it. The poor, the rich, and everybody else in between. This little religion was slowly gaining momentum for it was new, exciting, different. As it grew, people began to make new kinds of Christianity; Catholics, Lutherarians, etc. And as with the beans, every body had it, and sometimes they had so much Christianity in one place, and it was in everything they did, some people grew sick of it, tired of it, or didn't even want anything to do with it. It grew boring. Kids started hating Sundays, because they knew they had to sit in those uncomfortable pews, listen to the droning of an old man who said they were going to hell, and wonder if god even loved them. They looked forward to church, just as they did to that big ole plate full of beans. Then came the worst. The church started to shun the people who needed Jesus's teachings most. The poor, smelly, and those who just didnt have the money to do anything but eat, werent allowed in church, because they couldnt, "Dress nice for Jesus". Something simple, made terribly complicated."
The old woman looked at me, nibbling her catfish, while i sat and pondered, leaning against my broom stick in thought.
"Ma'm, pagans are like that fried Catfish you're eatin' there. Pagan belief is something ancient, just as the Catfish. The Catfish stayed the same pattern, let everyone eat it, rich or poor, and has been made the same way since it's discovery long ago. Yes, there are different kinds of Catfish, but they all still look same, the only variations may be color, or region. Though some dont eat the Catfish, may it be because they have heard how it tastes just so awful, or just looks funny. We are Catfish, ma'm. Us Pagans have been following the same blue print since the first Pillar. The first Shrine. The first Temple. And have tried our damnedest to stick to the original recipe. We let anyone take a nibble of our ways, and would gladly teach naked, if one of our brothers or sisters couldn't afford clothes. Everyone thinks we are nasty, weird. But once they break the habit, and take that little nibble, they may find out we taste just a little less awful than they thought."
I leaned back off my broom, the entire section buzzing with chatter, but just me and her hung with silence, the earth seeming to pause, and take a little breath. The old woman just smiled, leaning back in her booth and crossing her arms.
"I've been waiting to meet an other real pagan." And she pulls a bronze Ankh from her shirt.
Im not gonna lie, i laughed so hard i inhaled the peanut i was eating.
It turns out, she was a stout Christian until the church closed their doors on her, because her son was gay. She had felt betrayed, and went looking for another faith that wouldn't judge merely for personal pretenses. She found a faith which name escapes me, its my fault for not writing it down like i should have, but i bet someone here knows from the Ankh. She was a strong, bright old woman, and we chatted about our faiths till she had to leave to pick up her son.
Oh, and she left the best tip iv ever had. xD
(I apoligize for the wait, and had to struggle to remember the conversation, i have terrible memory.)
[quote]Unfortunatley, i am stuck within the business of the food industry, moslty waiting tables. Yesterday a very old, about 87 id say, grand mother strolls in. Mind you she had no walker, no cane, drank 2 32oz Blue Moon draft beers, and ate an entire plate of Catfish, including salad and Charro beans. It was the end of my shift, so i ask her if i can clean up. She says yes, and i began the tedious task of sweeping up peanut shells and the microscopic dust that it seems i can never see. As im sweeping, the lets forth the stragest analogy for religion iv ever heard:
"Yah know boy, Christianity is like this bowl of Charro Beans here. Something very simple; beans. At one time, very little people liked beans. As more people began to eat it, it became more and more popular. Of course people didnt want just one bean, they wanted all kinds of different beans! Soon, there were all a matter of beans were being discovered, used in different ways, and had a multitude of other things added to the wee, little bean. After eating beans for a time or two, people grow bored, and some people even begin to hate beans, may it be for the fact it was force fed to them as a kid, or it just doesnt suit their pallet. Something simple, complicated in every fashionable way."
I ask her, best you know i had already drawn from the analogy her point, how Christianity was like the beans?
"At one time, Christianity was so delightfully simple, that anyone could do it. The poor, the rich, and everybody else in between. This little religion was slowly gaining momentum for it was new, exciting, different. As it grew, people began to make new kinds of Christianity; Catholics, Lutherarians, etc. And as with the beans, every body had it, and sometimes they had so much Christianity in one place, and it was in everything they did, some people grew sick of it, tired of it, or didn't even want anything to do with it. It grew boring. Kids started hating Sundays, because they knew they had to sit in those uncomfortable pews, listen to the droning of an old man who said they were going to hell, and wonder if god even loved them. They looked forward to church, just as they did to that big ole plate full of beans. Then came the worst. The church started to shun the people who needed Jesus's teachings most. The poor, smelly, and those who just didnt have the money to do anything but eat, werent allowed in church, because they couldnt, "Dress nice for Jesus". Something simple, made terribly complicated."
The old woman looked at me, nibbling her catfish, while i sat and pondered, leaning against my broom stick in thought.
"Ma'm, pagans are like that fried Catfish you're eatin' there. Pagan belief is something ancient, just as the Catfish. The Catfish stayed the same pattern, let everyone eat it, rich or poor, and has been made the same way since it's discovery long ago. Yes, there are different kinds of Catfish, but they all still look same, the only variations may be color, or region. Though some dont eat the Catfish, may it be because they have heard how it tastes just so awful, or just looks funny. We are Catfish, ma'm. Us Pagans have been following the same blue print since the first Pillar. The first Shrine. The first Temple. And have tried our damnedest to stick to the original recipe. We let anyone take a nibble of our ways, and would gladly teach naked, if one of our brothers or sisters couldn't afford clothes. Everyone thinks we are nasty, weird. But once they break the habit, and take that little nibble, they may find out we taste just a little less awful than they thought."
I leaned back off my broom, the entire section buzzing with chatter, but just me and her hung with silence, the earth seeming to pause, and take a little breath. The old woman just smiled, leaning back in her booth and crossing her arms.
"I've been waiting to meet an other real pagan." And she pulls a bronze Ankh from her shirt.
Im not gonna lie, i laughed so hard i inhaled the peanut i was eating.
It turns out, she was a stout Christian until the church closed their doors on her, because her son was gay. She had felt betrayed, and went looking for another faith that wouldn't judge merely for personal pretenses. She found a faith which name escapes me, its my fault for not writing it down like i should have, but i bet someone here knows from the Ankh. She was a strong, bright old woman, and we chatted about our faiths till she had to leave to pick up her son.
Oh, and she left the best tip iv ever had. xD
(I apoligize for the wait, and had to struggle to remember the conversation, i have terrible memory.)
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