It's Only A Hat "It's Only A Hat" It was the fourth Sunday in August, time for the annual "Friends and Family Day" at the Ain't Nobody Else Right But Us-All Others Goin' To Hell church. The huge beautiful church, pastored by Reverend Knott Enuff Money, stood on the corner of Redemption and Hell bound Boulevard in downtown Pelzer, South Carolina for more than sixty-years. The church carried a membership of more than fifteen hundred. It was famous because it was one of the first churches to have an ATM bank machine and a Blessing Dispenser. They were also the first to collect food stamps as long as the five-dollar and over stamps remained in their original books. And, like in Sodom and Gomorrah you couldn't find ten, righteously, doing the work of the Lord. Let me tell you how it started----- Sister Betty had been anticipating going to her church's annual Friends and Family Day celebration since it was first announced by Old Mother Centennial months ago. There was only one day left before the celebration would start and she needed something special to wear. She had picked out a conservative green cotton dress that was appropriate for a sixty year-old and caught the bus to go downtown shopping. The Down Town bus was very crowded and the air conditioning was not working. Sister Betty did not care. She was armed with a lot of patience, and not too much money. After arriving down town she went to several of her favorite boutiques. Finally, she found the perfect hat to go with her �I'm Saved, and you'd better know it,� outfit. After haggling with the sales clerk, they agreed upon a price that would, at least, leave her with bus fare. The long bus ride back to her house didn�t seem too long at all. She had her hat for the �special occasion.� The clerk placed it in a much-too-large hatbox that was very cumbersome, yet nothing could dampen her spirits. She arrived home later that evening and put the hatbox in her closet. After eating a light supper she went to bed. In her dreams she saw herself praising the Lord in her beautiful new hat. The next morning the buzzing sound of the alarm clock softly poured into Sister Betty�s ears. She sat up, turned off the clock switch and took about five minutes giving God praise for allowing her to live another day. Sister Betty had never been a big eater and had maintained her weight of one hundred and five pounds on her five foot two inch frame with no problem. She decided to skip her usual breakfast of Spam and eggs. She wanted to save her appetite for all the delicious food that would be served at the Annual Friends and Family Day celebration. After putting away the dishes Sister Betty performed several menial chores around the house, waiting until it was time to get dressed. She could not wait to put on her new hat. Sister Betty took her time primping. After looking in the mirror she gave the outfit a glowing self-endorsement. Suddenly she began to perspire. She couldn't understand why she felt nervous so she dismissed the feeling. It was almost twelve o�clock. Almost time to leave. Sister Betty took a moment to peep through the vertical blinds in her living room. She took a deep breath and got into a waiting taxicab. She began to relax and enjoy the ride to the church. That Sunday was beautiful by both Heaven and earth's standards. No clouds and no impending thunderstorms; however, the climate inside the church was going to be another story. Inside the church, clouds and thunderstorms with little drops of pure insanity were starting to form. That dark cloud�s name was---Sister Ima Hellraiser. Nobody in the church hated peace and quiet like her. Whether it was a baby shower or a funeral she could be counted on to set off a riot. Friends and Family Day would be no different. I wanted to tell Sister Betty to run. Go to another church that was having a Friends and Family Day! But I didn't. I was still a little miffed about having to deal with her and the congregation in order to get my wings. However, even my Angel-in-training manual couldn't prepare me for what was about to go down. All I could do, for a while was to sit back and watch. Sister Betty�s taxi pulled up in front of the church. She looked at the reflection of her beautiful hat in the car door glass. Her feet barely touched the steps as she hurried inside. Suddenly, from a far corner of the sanctuary, came a nice-nasty purring voice that sounded like a buzz saw. The voice deliberately assaulted Sister Betty's peace and quiet. " Sister Betty, that's a nice little hat you're wearing." Sister Ima Hellraiser whispered, as she smirked and slinked across the plush red carpet. She stood there model-thin and gorgeous. Dressed to the nines, she was bathed in all the bright sunshine, which poured through the stain glass windows. Sister Hellraiser thought perhaps her eyes were playing tricks. But even Stevie Wonder could see that Sister Betty was wearing the same hat. How could that be? That went against all female logic - two women could not wear the same hat, at the same time, and on the same occasion. The woman, who sold Sister Hellraiser the hat at the Cost A Plenty Boutique, told her it was a "one-of-a-kind." Evidently, the saleswoman lied and Sister Hellraiser couldn't stand liars unless it was her doing it. That saleswoman would pay dearly come Monday morning when the store reopened. Sister Ima Hellraiser eyed Sister Betty with the intensity of a cross-eyed Tasmanian she-devil and with about the same sincerity. She had as much use for Sister Betty as one Tomcat had for another Tomcat. For many years Sister Hellraiser had thought the elderly church lady had a little bit too much religion for her taste and even worse, whenever she was around Sister Betty, her conscience bothered her. Sister Hellraiser and her conscience had an understanding---she didn't bother it and it wouldn't bother her. Now anybody, on such a lovely day and at such a wonderful spiritual event, would have tried to act like they had a little religion or upbringing. However, we are talking about Ima Hellraiser, --- enough said. It took a moment but Sister Betty regained her composure. The subtle yet nasty attack from Sister Hellraiser came from out of nowhere. "Well thank you very much. I see we are both, definitely, wearing the same nice little hat," replied Sister Betty with suspicion. Sister Betty was no fool. She had been a member of the Ain't Nobody Else Right But Us-All Others Goin' To Hell church since the first brick was laid. More than sixty years had passed and forty of those years were spent ducking and dodging Ima Hellraiser's mother, Sister A Real Hellraiser. One thing was for sure the apple didn't fall far from the tree. So no matter how much she wanted to relax and enjoy this beautiful event, she knew she'd better watch as well as pray. I couldn't blame Sister Betty for being leery. Sister Hellraiser was the type of person that would make the most Holiest of Holy, trap her in a corner, call the police and report that someone had been shot. Next, put down the phone and shoot her. Of course, that same Holiest of Holy person would have to rush to the altar and ask for forgiveness, but that's the effect Sister Hellraiser had on people-both the Saved and the unSaved. Sister Hellraiser jeered as she circled Sister Betty, "I didn't know you could afford a hat like that living on a fixed income." She still couldn't believe her eyes. Her one-of-a kind hat, supposedly hand-made by Sister I Lie Alot from the Cost A Plenty Boutique, was staring right back at her, atop the head of Sister Betty. If this situation weren't so ridiculous I would have dismissed it. However at this point, I was about to double over from laughter. Let me describe the hat that had Sister Ima Hellraiser in such a snit, and poor Sister Betty wondering why she ever got out of bed. The hat was made of bright orange shellacked-straw and shaped like a triangle. There were so many red, blue and mauve flowers on the right side of it, Sister Hellraiser had to pretend her head was leaning because that was the attitude needed to go with the hat. The only thing that kept her from completely falling over was the big matching orange pocketbook that she carried in her left hand for balance. Let us not forget about Sister Betty. She was wearing the same hat and leaning the same way. However, in her left hand she had her big family-size Bible that she always carried. It was that Bible that kept her from falling over. If you've ever gone to an amusement park, went inside the fun house and looked at your reflection in the fun mirror, then you know how those two sisters looked. That gasoline laced situation was about to go up another notch because the church's choir director, the always effervescent, Brother Tis Mythang was about to stick his nose where it didn't belong. "My, my, don't you two ladies look special." Brother Tis Mythang teased. He had been standing by the Blessing Dispenser on the other side of the church vestibule. He was deep into admiring his two-piece green and beige suit, complete with matching tie, when his attention was diverted. When he saw what he knew was sure to be an unscheduled exciting event. Brother Tis Mythang could not believe his eyes as he put his pocket mirror away. Two church sisters wearing the same hat. It was too delicious. Without thinking he started towards them. He almost knocked down Sister Carrie Onn, the church's premier blabbermouth, as he tried to get a closer look at what was about to go down. Brother Tis Mythang ran up to them, completely out of breath and blurted out, "Are you two singing a duet or something? I didn't know anyone was wearing uniforms today. All I can say is that y'all working them hats---." He would have continued, but he felt the knives thrown by Sister Hellraiser's fierce brown eyes. He was bubbly, not stupid. When he looked around and no longer saw Sister Carrie Onn, he knew she had gone to tell everybody about the hats. He gave her five minutes before the vestibule would be filled with folks, vying for front-row spots, to watch the catfight that was sure to take place. Five minutes was a long time to wait when your main pleasure was stirring things up, but that event was too good to waste and besides Brother Tis Mythang loved an enthusiastic crowd. Sister Betty didn't have to be a rocket scientist to know what was about to go down. She decided she would try and do whatever she could to stop it. Even if it meant taking off her exquisite hat, so that Sister Hellraiser could have bragging rights, she would make the sacrifice. It was a good and well-meaning intention except her hat was pinned to her good church wig. As usual I was still laughing while flipping through my Angel-in-training manual for instructions on what to do in this type of situation. Of course, I was flipping slowly because I was still miffed about to having to deal with those folks in order to get my wings. By the time I finally found out what to do Sister Carrie Onn returned with about thirty spiritually challenged congregation members. They were elbowing and jockeying for places to see the impending bout between Sister Betty and Sister Hellraiser. Poor Sister Betty. She would have been better off if she had stayed home and watch the WCW. Now she was in danger of involuntarily participating in a Title Bout. If she took her hat off her good church wig would come off with it. She certainly didn't need to do that in front of Sister Carrie Onn. That was not the time for me to slack off. Sister Betty needed my help. I closed my Angel-in-training manual. The plan to defuse the situation was formulated. I hovered near Sister Betty and was about to spiritually communicate my plan. It normally only took a few seconds and, of course, when finished, we understood each other completely. I was about thisclose to telling that old lady what to do. Then it happened! Something faster than a locomotive and able to leap over the truth in a single sentence occurred --- Brother Tis Mythang's big mouth flew open-again. He gave the term, quick of tongue, a new meaning. From where he stood, Brother Tis Mythang had taken one look at Sister Carrie Onn and her ruthless entourage and knew they would make a great backup. He twirled, snapped his fingers as if he were Zorro without the sword and jerked his neck, Egyptian snake style and said, "If fashion were a candle, you two would be unscented, flickered and burnt out in no time." He laughed as he glanced back over his shoulder and winked. The very sight of Sister Carrie Onn approaching, with a herd of once-a-year, church attendees gave him extra courage. As usual, he was hunting without a clue and his reality check was lost in the mail. Brother Tis Mythang was about to enter his own drama. His supposed ally, Sister Carrie Onn, was a renowned blabbermouth, but she was no ordinary fool. She had special skills. After all, she was Sister Hellraiser's first cousin and knew first hand when to play with her and when not. They were about the same age and could almost pass for twins. Sister Carrie Onn had spent several of her most traumatic childhood summers with her cousin and her aunt, Sister A Real Hellraiser. Those summers were the training ground for the vicious and lonely woman she became. It was during that time, after a few unsuccessful and infantile escapades, she learned how not to get in Sister Hellraiser�s way. The only reason Sister Carrie Onn brought the crowd to the vestibule was to see how Sister Betty was going to get herself out of her current dilemma. Like most of the people in the church, she thought Sister Betty's mind was about ten cents short of equaling a dime. As much as she did not care for Sister Betty, she still had no intention of helping Brother Tis Mythang. Since he stuck his big nose into the mess by himself, let him pull it out --- by himself. Like Brother Tis Mythang, her reality check had not been received. It had been returned marked, "undeliverable." It seemed like the only way Sister Betty was gonna get out of this mess was if she hopped up into the butt of the first buzzard flying over the Atlantic ocean and hoped that the butt didn't open up. Unfortunately, it was summer and all the buzzards in Pelzer, South Carolina had flown away when they heard Sister Ima Hellraiser was coming. On the plus side, Sister Betty's best friend, Ma Cile had been snacking on a pigfoot fajita when she heard the commotion and came lumbering into the vestibule. Ma Cile was twice the size of Sister Betty. She was also old, feisty and sighted in one eye was not about to let her long-time friend, Sister Betty, lose the hat fight. It would become worse before better. The cranky and stuck on menopause Church Mother, Mother Pray Onn, had just left her house located at 666 � PMS Boulevard. She had called a cab as soon as she got the phone call from her daughter. Her daughter was, of course, Sister Carrie Onn. The church vestibule was about to explode with several egos scorched. Suddenly Brother Tis Mythang's big mouth went into overdrive. "Sister Carrie Onn, don't you think they just look too cute? Both Sister Hellraiser and Sister Betty are wearing the same hats. I think they ought to sing a duet. Maybe they both can get up and give the announcements or something. You know ---take turns." Sister Carrie Onn continued to ignore him which was a good thing. Before anyone could shut him up for his own good, Sister Hellraiser had forgotten about how heavy her hat was, and leaped at him as quick as the tongue of a frog to a fly. And, just because she had forgotten how heavy the hat was did not mean it still was not heavy. Sister Hellraiser�s hat took on a life of its own. She tried to jump to the left to grab his leg and instead the heavy hat pulled her to the right. Each time she leaped, she bounced up and down like one of those stand-up punching bags. Sister Hellraiser continued rolling around like an electrified broken slinky. Finally in her blinded anger, she found enough strength to grab at one of Brother Tis Mythang's pants legs. However, by now both she and her hat were possessed. She continued her electrified slinky impersonation, as streaks of bright orange shellacked-straw from her hat glistened, as she rolled and recoiled after each botched thrust. Brother Tis Mythang looked on in horror as she, again, kept coming thisclose to laying hands on him. Glistening beads of perspiration poured from his face as he suddenly developed lockjaw. Sister Hellraiser went into maniac overdrive as she tried to tear him asunder. As Sister Hellraiser continued to grab at the horror stricken Brother Tis Mythang, Sister Betty regained enough composure to silently pray. Prayers are good in any situation and especially then because things were about to get real ugly. No one saw the large Louisiana hot sauce covered pigfoot fajita fly out of Ma Cile's hands, instead they heard a swooshing sound as it flew in the direction of Sister Hellraiser. Ma Cile, Sister Betty's oldest and dearest friend, did not mean to throw the pigfoot so soon. She meant to throw it only after she had sucked all the meat off the bone. Like David to the rescue of the Israelites, Ma Cile meant to use the bone to serve a beat-down to Sister Hellraiser because she thought Sister Betty was in trouble. In reality, the pigfoot fajita was accidentally knocked from her hand by the wind from Mother Pray Onn as she raced, up the steps from the taxi into the vestibule, to check out the commotion. The term �now it was really on� took on a new meaning. At first Ma Cile was stunned when she looked down and saw her empty hands. One moment she had a pigfoot fajita. Then she did not. When it came to trifling with her food Ma Cile's patience needed some work. Everybody in Pelzer, South Carolina knew the obsession she had about her pigfoot fajitas. The Annual Friends and Family Day Food Committee served only the greatest pigfoot fajitas. They had them delivered from El Diablo's Soul Food Shanty and then added their own secret ingredients. Ma Cile had salivated and waited since last week to be the first on line to get her pigfoot fajita. Now it sat half-eaten, upon the head of Sister Hellraiser, in the middle of the many red, blue and mauve flowers on the right side of the hat. Ma Cile trudged a few steps. She was trying to focus her good brown eye on exactly where, in the flowered hat, the pigfoot fajita landed. It was difficult because her blue store-bought false eye kept jumping around. She had gotten an eye knocked out by an uppity mule as a young girl. When it needed to be replaced, the store only had blue eyes. Cornflower blue to be exact. To Ma Cile an eye was an eye and beat wearing a patch any day --ergo she bought the blue eye. However, when the crowd saw Ma Cile coming across the vestibule, sweating and huffing with her lopsided eyeballs playing tag with each other, they cleared a path--just in case she was trying to dispense one of her famous eye whammies. As Sister Hellraiser lay sprawled on the floor and babbling something, no one mistook for praises, she became coherent enough to see the towering Ma Cile coming towards her. When Ma Cile finally reached Sister Hellraiser, she stood over her with a hand on each hip looking like the Jolly Green Giant from the television commercial. In slow motion Sister Hellraiser felt her life flash before her as the big calloused hands of Ma Cile descended��. I suddenly recalled what I wanted to tell Sister Betty. I remembered a movie called "Forest Gump." All I could spiritually communicate to Sister Betty was---- run Betty, run gurlfriend---run! Sister Hellraiser�s beautiful honeyed complexion took on an ashen hue as she screamed, "Don't hit me! Here, take the hat! Sister Betty can have both hats, I don't want it!" Sister Hellraiser continued quivering with fear. Her reputation as being a bad mamma jamma had disappeared faster than OJ's alibi. The need to live radically replaced the need to be numero uno at the Friends and Family Day celebration. Ma Cile would not be denied. "Give me that---" she hissed. Before Ma Cile finished the sentence, Sister Hellraiser took her free hand, the one that wasn�t holding her heart inside, and flung the hat to the floor. With that, the less-than-spiritually minded crowd in the vestibule started to point, laugh, and stare at Sister Hellraiser. Almost all of them had a reason to want to see her humiliated. At some time or another she had verbally maimed most of the congregation. Ma Cile raised back up. It took a moment for her to get a breath. She straightened her gray, page-boy style, wig with one hand and placed the other hand on her temple. She tapped one stubby finger against her left temple to line up her one good brown eye so that it leveled with the store-bought blue eye. "The pigfoot!" she yelled, "I only wanted my pigfoot back! I don't care about yo' hat. But, if you think you gonna mess with my best friend, Sista' Betty and my food too, think again!" After Ma Cile grabbed the hat from the floor, she ripped most of the flowers from it. With the tenderness of a new mother, she removed her pigfoot. She glared back down at the still trembling Sister Hellraiser and flung the hat, Frisbee style, back at her. With the pigfoot retrieved, Ma Cile wobbled back to where she last saw Sister Betty standing. Sister Betty was gone. Stunned, Ma Cile scanned the vestibule. Her head moved back and forth like she was watching a tennis match. "Where in the world did Sister Betty go," she wondered. "Ya'll move out of my way! I got to go and find po� Sista' Betty." Ma Cile barked. Of course, a path was cleared immediately. Ma Cile headed for the church's Over-Flow room. She thought that was where she would have gone if she had been as embarrassed as Sister Betty. Since everyone of the onlookers had ran to the vestibule to see what was going on, Sister Betty was bound to find it empty. From across the vestibule, behind the safety of about a dozen drama-hungry congregation members, finally came the taunting voice of Sister Carrie Onn. Her entry needed to be memorable so she pretended to show concern for the cousin she despised. "My, my, Sister Hellraiser.� Sister Carrie Onn yelled. She saw a chance-of-a-lifetime to further humiliate her cousin. Acting like she had just found a pot of gold, she continued her attack with enthusiasm. �I see you, and Sister Betty ain't wearing the same one-of-a-kind, original, hat no more." She said. "That's a real shame. The two of you looked so�. how should I put it� twin-ish." Sister Carrie Onn looked like a ghetto Eartha Kitt, as she slinked to within about five feet from her shaken cousin. "Sweetheart, it looks like you could use a blessing right about now.� Sister Carrie Onn stopped suddenly, to extend her middle finger towards Sister Hellraiser, before continuing, �Why don't I go inside the Pastor's study and ask Reverend Knott Enuff Money and Deacon Laid Handz to come pray for you. Sister Carrie Onn continued her teasing. When Sister Hellraiser didn't immediately get up and knock her down, Sister Carrie Onn felt a sense of power, and moved in a little closer for the kill. �Would you like that? Prayer can get you through some mighty rough times." The crowd now felt as powerful as Sister Carrie Onn. To show their unity, they crept forward and stood behind her. Several impatient hands pushed her gently, urging her to continue. Sister Carrie Onn acknowledged the crowd�s support with a wink, drew back her middle finger and made a fist. She turned to Sister Hellraiser and raged, "I'd help you to your feet, but how many times, when we were kids, did you help me after you knocked me down? Huh? How many times did you tease me about my fashion sense or lack of it? Huh? Well you don't look so fashionable now, do you? Feels kind of funny looking up at people instead of always looking down at them--- don't it!" Sister Carrie Onn�s mouth was in over-drive. It was running so fast that she never saw Sister Hellraiser jump up with the, now disheveled, hat in her hand. Sister Hellraiser stumbled a couple of steps, but she somehow managed to come nose-to-nose with her cousin, Sister Carrie Onn. Sister Carrie Onn and her bravado mentally flew to panic city. She thought that there was at least five feet of safety between them. It was one thing to bad-mouth someone when they were sprawled, helpless, on a floor. It was quite another thing to do it face-to-face. Sister Hellraiser was certain Sister Carrie Onn had lost her mind. No sane person would ever criticize Sister Hellraiser's fashion sense. Never mind the fact that Ma Cile had publicly knocked her silly with a half-eaten, hot sauce covered pigfoot fajita. She also looked like a jar of spilled jellybeans with her hat of many colors discarded on the church floor. She just could not believe her very own cousin, Sister Carrie Onn insulted her, suggesting that she didn't have fashion-sense. Sister Hellraiser was not as brave as she wanted everyone to believe. She had already looked around and no longer saw Ma Cile or Sister Betty. It was safe to get up. Sister Carrie Onn was no verbal challenge and Sister Hellraiser was going to see that she paid for the all the humiliation she had received from the others. "No fashion-sense! You must have lost your mind." Sister Hellraiser snarled. "You are the one with no fashion-sense! Look at what you're wearing---didn't you wear this same tasteless outfit last October 31st? It was wrong then and it's wrong now.� Sister Hellraiser was giving a verbal paint job using a vinegar-soaked tongue. That tongue dipped back into the palate as she continued her tirade, �I guess you must have dressed in the dark. As a matter of fact, did you ever get your lights turned back on. I know the last time, you were so far behind in your payments-- the electric company even turned off the street lights in the front of your house." The mouth just kept on going and it whittled Sister Carrie Onn down, with each syllable. When Sister Hellraiser was finished, Sister Carrie Onn felt small enough to get a job, as a teller, at a piggy bank. Sister Hellraiser never missed a beat. She grabbed her radically redesigned hat, which by now was missing all of the mauve colored flowers, and was shaped into a square instead of a triangle. She pulled it down on her head, accessorizing it, with much attitude. Without any remorse, she continued her verbal beat down of Sister Carrie Onn. All of a sudden the laughter from the crowd stopped. Everyone, but Sister Hellraiser and Sister Carrie Onn, was looking at the two figures standing in the doorway. They would have kept on chewing each other out but of course, mighty mouth, Bro. Tis Mythang set it off-again and got their attention. Brother Tis Mythang just couldn't help himself as he looked back and forth from Sister Hellraiser to Sister Betty. Sister Betty was now standing, hand-in-hand in the doorway, with Ma Cile. "Have mercy. Sister Betty did you and Sister Hellraiser bring two different one-of-a-kind original hats to wear today? Things have been so crazy I didn't even see you two change, into your new hats. I still say, you be workin' them hats-----" Brother Tis Mythang mouth kept going like the little television energizer bunny. Peace and quiet never had a chance because more pandemonium struck. Ma Cile thought her eyes were playing tricks too. She kept thumping herself in the temple, a futile effort to line up her good brown eye with her store bought false blue-one. Sister Betty wanted to move and couldn't. It was a good thing that one of the spiritually challenged congregation members had been taping the entire event to show at the next Testa-Lying Service, because no one would have believed what happened next. It didn't seem possible, but there they were, Sister Betty and Sister Ima Hellraiser�. both wearing the same hat--again. Ma Cile had been right. Earlier Sister Betty had retreated to the Over-Flow room and removed all the mauve-colored flowers from her hat and shaped it into a square, just to make it different from Sister Hellraiser's hat. And, like a scene from the old television series, "The Outer Limits" that just kept on repeating itself, here they stood again--wearing the same hat. They looked at each other, too tired to rehash a losing situation and decided it was a draw. When Sister Betty saw that Sister Hellraiser was not going to restart the imagined-competition, she gave a silent, "Thank you Lord." Perhaps, Sister Hellraiser was beginning to see the foolishness of her ways---and perhaps, pigs ain't pork, grits ain't groceries and Mona Lisa was a man. The hats did look the same, but upon close examination, there was a subtle difference. Sister Hellraiser had a smidgen of hot sauce on the right side of her hat. It was about the size of a dime and most people would not have noticed. However, Sister Carrie Onn's mother, who was also Sister Hellraiser�s aunt, Mother Pray Onn was also on the scene. She was the church�s, "Don't Nobody Know God Like I Know God" church mother. Mother Pray Onn didn't leave her home at 666 � PMS Avenue, catch a taxi and rush up the steps into the church vestibule, for nothing. She was going to have her say and nobody was going to stop her. So, of course, it was she that saw the dime-size smidgen of hot sauce on Sister Hellraiser's hat. And, before the choir could start singing "Holy, Holy, Holy" to start the Annual Friends and Family Day celebration, Mother Pray Onn started taunting Sister Hellraiser where Sister Carrie Onn left off. "Ima, sweetheart, what is that on your hat? Is that blood? I guess it could be hot sauce--it's hard to tell.� Mother Pray Onn used her walking cane to point towards Sister Betty and continued, �I don't see the same thing on Sister Betty's hat----------" Sister Betty had enough drama for one day. She clutched her big family-size Bible to her chest and held her peace. It was better to be thought of as a fool than to open one's mouth and prove it. She and Ma Cile walked away and continued praising God. They were determined to enjoy the rest of the festivities. Sister Betty held her head high, yet with humility as she straightened her new and improved hat. She made the hat. The hat did not make her. With all the theatrics over it was just another typical Friends and Family Day celebration at the Ain't Nobody Else Right But Us-All Others Goin' To Hell church. See how they praise God, you do the opposite. That entire ruckus in the church vestibule�over a hat!
Copyright © 1999 Pat G'Orge-Walker |