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Twisting of words and turning of phrases by Robert Cameron Hazelton
It was right around Christmas time and our 'Youth Fellowship' group from church was going to a neighboring church for a choral presentation of holiday hymns. A few of us had a little pow-wow behind someone's house right before we left, and upon arriving at the quaint little rustic building, literally in the middle of nowhere, found our stoned giggling selves right in the front row. I love music, was in choir myself, and generally enjoyed the show, until about half way through the performance when a rather robust woman in front started crying while singing. Now this is where it gets a little foggy because I was really wasted, or maybe time has slowly dulled the memory, but all I remember is laughing at this lady with my buddies. I mean there she was in this bright red satin robe, singing her lungs out, and sobbing openly. She kept looking at me and I knew it was because we were snickering a bit too loudly. We were saying, "Wow, she is really into it" and stupid things like that, much too insouciant to care about anything enough to understand her passion. Well, anyway, we were ushered downstairs afterwards to enjoy some yuletide refreshments and it was really tight down there. A large number of adults packed themselves into a tiny little room, and we slowly squeezed our way towards the sweet holiday goodies our narcotized bodies were craving. It was getting really hot and I remember feeling a little dizzy and nauseous. We grabbed our cookies and red colored punch then tried to find a corner to sink into. The punch was bubbly-tart, making my lips pucker, and as I took a small sip, suddenly all I could see was red satin and a shining face wet with tears. "You! You're the one! I had a vision... God spoke to me while singing! He said you were going to be a shepherd and to have faith in him!" Her face was literally glowing (at least in my memory) and her eyes were unbelievably feverish, almost out of focus. I can't explain the feeling that came over me at that moment, I was really scared, the whole room started spinning! I remember just trying to get away from this lady, I think she grabbed me and kept saying it over and over. My mother was there, being one of our group's adult leaders, and she finally wrested me from her grip and quickly got me upstairs and outside into the crisp December air, which almost instantly cleared my mind. On the ride home our pastor, Reverend Henkel, who was a soft-spoken but intense man of great faith and strength, told me that I should not discount this raving madwoman's rambling. He went on to say, in a very sober tone of voice, that I should keep this to myself and not talk about it as God does truly work in strange ways and who are we to question him, especially when part of the message was to have faith in him. He stressed this part of the message, and said to trust that what was to be would be. So, I went on with my life. At age 15 there are a wealth of distractions to occupy the mind and body. Within a couple weeks I pretty much forgot about it and still to this day truly wonder if it even happened. There has certainly been nothing in my mediocre life to warrant being anyone's shepherd. I am a classic under-achiever with a simple high school education and as I've gotten older have become more and more introverted, barely able to even manage my own affairs. All I do is think, write and... exist, waiting for some kind of sign. While on a whole I feel great compassion and empathy for my fellow humans, the darker undercurrents which seem to pervade the very air these days make me quite leery to get overly involved in anything. All I keep telling myself is, what will be, will be.
Robert Cameron Hazelton lives in Amsterdam, New York and writes the poetry blog Average Poet. For more from Robert visit his columns: then, before; and his poetry: now, then and before. Or his online home. |
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