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THE CRITIQUE CIRCLE

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TITLE: the bath
By Wesley Hesketh
08/05/12
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As a small child I lived with two uncles, one aunt
my grandmother and my parents and all our families. Once a week we got a bath, This is a story of that and how God was an important part of it.
It was my turn next. We stood on the
Stairs the lead to the basement. There were eight of us. All standing by age, little ones first. I was four. Butch get in here. My turn.

The lights were brighter than the one on the steps. They took a bit to get used to. Then I say them. They had brushes and lye soap. Up on the table I went. And into the tub.

One woman pumped the water from the well with an old hand cranked pump.
Another heated it on the wood-burning stove. While the others laughed and scrubbed away.

In I went scrub, scrub, scrub. Between the toes, behind the ears, they didnít miss a spot. When I was cherry red, I was done. Now comes the best part. The soft warm towel.

All the children huddled around the stove to keep warm. The women had finally finished their choir. The room was quiet.

Grandma started to hum a hymn.
Quietly each of the women joined in. Each knew their part and soon the room was fill with the sound of a heavenly choir.

As the children listened their faces had an angelic glow from the wood stove.
Some joined in cause they knew the words.

Once again there was silence. A breeze
Sped through the room and it settled into a warm glow in each of us.
We knew God was present. There was great love in the room for Him and each other.

In the peacefulness the children drifted off to sleep. One by one the women carried us to bed. The warmth of the covers swirled around my head. As I drifted off, I knew God was here and He was protecting me. I smiled.

From that bath I carries the love
Shown to me by my parents. Their deep love for God was instilled in me. Because of them and Godís continual love, I have never doubted who is my Creator and my Friend.
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