A Great, Laughing Love

When I was about eleven years old, some friends of my parents, who were devout Baptists, took my sister and me and their own kids to one of those hell-and-brimstone, evangelist tent meetings. The speaker scared the absolute bejesus out of me! I was first in line to be saved at the end of his rant, and although I relaxed a little on the way home, the next night (because you go every night while the show's in town, don't you know?) I was completely terrified all over again. From that day on, I knew I was damned; I was just a bad person who would never make it to heaven.