Personal Narrative - Baptism Essay

2622 Words11 Pages
Personal Narrative - Baptism I took my first step down into the font and thought. Baptisms are funny things. The brightness of it all is profound. It seems as if there is one brilliant mirror reflecting boisterous cheer everywhere. The idea is to pack as much happiness, either real or faked, into one too-hot room in the hope that it will be absorbed into the absolutely petrified soul of the prospective individual about to be baptized. The joy was so thick that it bounced around the walls and the floor searching for something to absorb it, something to hold it in permanently. The beams certainly had many obstructions to navigate around. There were too many fat women with satiated grins made wider still by the application of inordinate…show more content…
Perhaps embarrassed that their polished bald heads contributed to the gaiety, they took what few strands of hair they had and tugged them unmercifully over to the other side in an attempt to complete an even comb-over. The attempt resembled a pubescent boy covering his eyes during a particularly heated movie scene, only to leave a slit here and there for the brightness of their eyes to filter through and focus on the screen. But the forever-searching light pounced on the exposed slivers of baldness and reflected upward. Ever upward. "Trevvy, now are you sure I must go all the way?" So it went with my Grandma. Part of my caustic mood was due to her focus on the outward show instead of the inner meaning. She glanced peevishly at me, aware of the intense spotlight focused on her. She was shrinking with its heat. "Yes Grandma," I adopted a mocking sing song-voice, "That's why they call it immersion." I stretched out the first two syllables so it sounded like, "eeeemmmersion." She touched her hair and shot me her puppy dog look. I knew that look so well that it had long since failed to elicit any sympathy. I did a double take at her almost-white hair and groaned in disgust. One more big-haired old Mormon lady. Aware of my stare, she patted her milky mane ever so slightly as if the words, "Fragile! Handle with Care" were stamped in bright red ink on it. I took my second step,
Open Document