Finding God
God was introduced to me in a small Congregational Church with Wedgwood blue walls and a plain wooden cross on the north wall. He filled my starving belly with the home-baked ginger cookies and apple juice they served as part of Sunday school, the Bible stories mere backdrop for free sustenance. Jesus was delivered upstairs in small plastic cups of grape juice and soft cubes of bread, his blood and body having been purchased at the local Grand Union. When I was around six…
