Original Sin by Meredith C Hartwelli. I was seven years old when Father Catholic spoke of Mary. "God chose her," he said, "because she was sinless, as no other woman would ever be." And he looked at me. "Not even you." I was seven years old when I realized God had always known that I would fight with my sister and tell fibs to my mother. "That's no reason to stop trying," Father Catholic insisted. "We should all try to be like Mary." And I decided to be pure like Mary no matter what. [Perfectionism is the curse of those destined to fail.]
ii. I was twenty years old when I took my place beside him on a fallen tree where a garden snake slept in sheltered branches. He, with his long hair, beard, and peaceful smile. His hands upturned on his knees (like mine) He closed his eyes and tilted his head to the sun. And you, standing between us, balancing on the dead wood. Your hands poised just above our crowns. You opened your eyes and tilted your head to meet my gaze. You smiled.
For that moment, you were a God. And I, your purest Virgin.
09/25/2002 Posted on 09/15/2002 Copyright © 2025 Meredith C Hartwell
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