My Niece's Baptism

Today was my niece's baptism. She was being baptized into a reformed church (so, naturally, my mom was beyond furious at that). There was a lot of stress this past week to see how mom would be today, and she was actually pretty good. My younger sister was sick and couldn't go, so mom stayed back to babysit her while the rest of us went. My mom was pretty mad that it was right around the time that we had to go to church (a Catholic church, I might add, because mom says that every person on earth should go to a Catholic mass at least once a week), but she got over that pretty quick. So, we walk into the church--which was very beautiful, by the way--and we see my sister-in-law's parents. My mom absolutely hates them for unknown reasons, and it creates a lot of stress whenever we're around. Anyways, my sister-in-law's parents began talking to us, and chatting with us, which I know they never would've done if mom were around because they're terrified of her. It felt strange, yet oddly comforting. My mom would always insult them and claim that they were the worst family on earth and everything, and that's kind of what I thought they'd be like, but, once again, my mom was completely lying and there was nothing wrong with them. They were funny, friendly, and very fun to be around.

The service was very beautiful. I may be an atheist, but the message of it was very good: Everyone is a child at heart, and childhood is something to hold on to. We each got a little souvenir from the baptism: a couple of pebbles from the bottom of the holy water font (I accidentally dropped one there and lost it because it was slippery), but we decided not to tell mom because anything non-Catholic is a gateway to hell. There was the lighting of the first Advent candle, readings, hymns, and a very well-written sermon.

Afterwards, when the service was over, we stayed to visit with family and to catch up with people we hadn't seen in a while. It was very joyous and enlightening, and very fun. The people that mom made out to be terrible demons were actually some of the nicest people I had ever met. At the last baptism, instead of catching up with old family members, my mom stormed out of there with a mad scowl across her face, saying that she needed to get her kids out of that hellhole. However, at this one, we stayed.

Mom expected us to be home as soon as possible, and when we walked through the door, mom was standing there with about the angriest face her petrifying face could manage. "WHERE IN THE HELL WERE YOU?!?!"
I was unfortunate enough to be in front of everyone else, and my dad piped up from the back, "the service was really long."
"WELL THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU LEAVE?!?!?"
"Well," he chuckled nervously, "you can't just get up and leave in the middle of your granddaughter's baptism."
"IT'S NOT EVEN A BAPTISM! IT'S A SACRIFICE TO SATAN HIMSELF! GOOD GODS! I THOUGHT THAT YOU'D HAVE THE COMMON SENSE TO REALIZE THAT YOUR FAMILY IS A LITTLE MORE IMPORTANT THAN ATTENDING A SATANIC RITUAL!!!"
"That's being a little harsh," my sister whispered to me with a slight laugh. My mom heard that and began to scream again.
"I'M NOT HARSH! I'M TRYING TO SAVE YOU KIDS FROM THE PROTESTANTS! I'VE ALREADY LOST THE OLDER ONES AND I'M NOT GOING TO LOSE YOU, TOO!!!" And with that, she stormed off into her bedroom, dragging dad along, and we went upstairs to change out of our nice clothes. I could hear mom screaming and yelling to dad, scolding him for keeping us inside that devilish whorehouse. I had that pebble, and I will forever hold it close to my heart. It's a symbol of this year. A rebellion against my mother's strict, manipulative rules. It's supposed to signify Christianity, but for me, it's a sign of becoming basically everything my mom hates: Liberal. Bisexual. Atheist. Bookworm. I am literally mom's very definition of evil. We were convinced when, one by one, the older siblings left the Catholic church, that mom would loosen up a bit and lessen her hatred towards non-Catholics. Nope. Instead of loving her children, she still holds onto her opinion that all non-Catholics are devil worshipers and that Satan has entered her children and possessed them to leave the only true religion.
That little pebble holds a lot of significance to me, and it will forever symbolize the year of 2016: A year of my great change, finding out who I will be as a person. I went into religion, politics, and basically everything with an open mind, and discovered which sides were greater, and which sides would better benefit society as a whole. I found myself this year, and all of my changes are here in this pebble beside me. My mom doesn't know of its existence, but she also doesn't know of my stances' existences, either. She doesn't think that I am liberal, or bisexual, or anything. I'm a closet warrior.