It's Still There ✔️

1. Cans For Church

29 YEARS EARLIER

When I was a child, I was raised in a standard household with everything I needed. We never had money problems, but I’ve learned that all my issues can be fixed with the people I surround myself with. 

Growing up in a small town never allowed us to be in touch with the outside world. Our town was essentially stuck in the past. I can recall when I used to wake up at 10:00 am on a Sunday and dress in a chiffon shirt with ivory buttons and steamed black dress pants just to go to church. Everytime I went to church, sleep would overtake me. I knew then that whatever the pastor was saying was complete bullshit. Religion never had to do with hate, or hating people who were different, or punishing what one can do with their body. So even then, I created my own version of God. This God was caring. He loved all his creatures, no matter how they were. My God listened to every single person who spoke to him. He never advocated for us to hate on people. 

Sundays were spent going to church, then staying one hour afterwards so my mom can gossip with the other moms. Hypocritical. This is how religion is. You only focus on what you want to believe and everything else is a sin.  

But I can’t judge others for I myself am far from perfect.

There were at least 4 masses that took place on Sunday. And everytime, almost every family came. All 800 people would come and listen to B.S. that brainwashed them.

Almost everyone.

Except for the mysterious Collins. After every mass, my mom and the others would gossip that the Collins never attended mass. Some thought that they were satanists. Others assumed that they were in the mafia and could never attend because of the sins they committed. I think the worst rumor I heard was that the alleged Mr. Collins was a convicted pedophile who couldn’t step foot into an area with children.

We didn't even know if there was a Mr. Collins. But in your standard 1980's family, everyone had a father and mother.

They assume the worst. I always figured that maybe they were busy. The Collins lived in a small house in the worst area in the neighborhood. Or maybe it was something else. It wouldn’t be until a few weeks later when I would find out why they never attended mass.

As part of my church lessons, I had to go around the town to collect cans. It was a daunting task since it would require me to walk in a black attire in the blazing hot sun. For April, it sure as hell was hot. I was assigned to the poorer neighborhood which worried me. You never know what someone will attempt to do to you.

I expected a horrible experience but it ended up becoming a moment when my life would forever turn around.

I reached a shanty house that had debris in the yard. A window was cracked and the dry grass  was evident that no one looked after the lawn. I approached the door carefully. I knocked on the door, loud enough for someone to hear, low enough to not bother anyone. A few minutes of waiting and I was about to turn around when the door opened.

There he stood. The person whose life would forever be in my debt. 

“H-Hello?” His soft voice said. He stood at the open door, his gray shirt reaching to his thighs and his legs covered by sweats. This was a dramatic difference to me, who wore a dress attire. The small boy stood there, tilting his head to the side. He was smaller than me. He was at least 5’ 5’’. He had tousled brown hair that almost tipped over his forehead. His amber eyes were wide with curiosity, like he wanted to know everything in the world. 

My first thought when I saw him was ‘Oh he’s adorable.’ But I couldn’t say that. Why did I think he was adorable? It’s probably because he looks cute. It’s not like I might like him. I didn’t expect to see someone who was probably my age living here. Usually it’s elderly people who live in the slums since they can’t work that much to afford good housing.