The Second Commandment Preached at Biff

One day, preacher man talked about the second commandment.

I guess I said amendment when I wrote about the first one. Wrong word, that.

Preacher man told us these are God's orders to humans.

He says we're not supposed to make a graven image of anything. I tried to figure out what that means. I thought from the way he talked, it meant like a picture; but there's a big picture of Jesus in the church, so that can't be right.

Maybe it means like a picture or carving of a bird or fish or something, but that can't be right either. There's a big fish on the sign outside of church.

I wondered if my mechanical Santa would be an idol. Probably so. Good thing I don't take this churchy stuff seriously.

But preacher man made it pretty clear that it was really bad, because not only would the sinner who did this (whatever it was) get punished, so would his kids, grandkids and great-grandkids. That doesn't seem fair to me, to get punished when you can't even figure out what it is you're not supposed to do. And its definitely not fair to the kids, who had no say over it; but this God and Jesus baloney doesn't have to make sense.

I just pretend to believe, like Daddy said.

I Talk to Santa

One day, I spilled my guts to Santa.

I knew Santa only cares about if you're bad or good, and if you're good, he gives you stuff.

Santa can't make Crystal stop taking me to church. He can't fix the bad smell that comes out of Nanny Alice after dinner. And he can't do anything about that old windbag preacher man.

He just rewards being good with stuff.

But I felt so sad, and alone, I had to talk to somebody.

I went into Santa's room on the third floor. I turned on the bubble lights and plugged Santa in. He smiled and nodded and waved, just like he always does. The lights filled the room with a warm glow. Santa's elves and helpers were there, too. So was Rudolph and two other reindeer - I forget their names. They don't move, but they do light up when you plug them in.

I sat in front of Santa on my little mat, with my legs crossed. I chatted away. I told Santa all about Crystal, and how mean she had been to me. As I was talking, I realized Crystal wouldn't get anything good from Santa. In fact, she would get coal and ashes. I didn't know what that meant, exactly, but it sure didn't sound good.

I asked Santa for somebody to talk to. I wanted a real, live person, not just motorized plastic. I knew it was silly even as the words came out of my mouth, but I asked anyway. I figured if I asked and got nothing, so what? It's worth a try.

I Meet a Poor Man

One day, I met a guy who slept in the park.

Crystal decided to take me and Nanny Alice to the city. Crystal went shopping. Nanny and I went to the park.

As we strolled along, I noticed a man sleeping on a park bench.

"Why is that man sleeping there?" I asked Nanny Alice.

"Well," she said, "I suppose he has no place else to go."

"How is that? Did Daddy take away his house?"

"No, no, your father most likely had nothing to do with it. At least, I don't think so. That man must be a drunk."

When we got real close to the bench, the man sat up. "Lady, can you spare some change?" he asked. His suit was all dirty and torn.

Nanny Alice looked away, grabbed my hand, and sped up.

The man called out after us, "Jesus said, when your brother asks you for something, inquire not of his need, but give freely."

After we were well away, I asked Nanny Alice what the man meant.

"Well, Jesus did care about the poor," she said. "At least, I think so. And I think he did say we are supposed to help them. But Jesus said God helps them what helps themselves; and also, the rich get richer and the poor get poorer." She sounded sorry, "that man back there, he don't want to help himself. He wants your poor old Nanny to give him money, my money I work hard for."

She rambled on. I started stomping on the flowers and weeds that came up in the cracks in the sidewalk. She looked a little upset.

"If I give my money to that man, why, then I'd just encourage his lazy ways. I'd be no better than a communist." She paused. "You know, the Russians tried that, and it didn't work out for them." I thought maybe she was worried about the man on the bench.

"No," she said, "I'm pretty sure that when Jesus said we should look after the poor, he didn't mean we should just give them money, or just hand them the things they need. I'm pretty sure he meant something else. I just don't believe exactly in what Jesus said about the poor."

"I don't believe in Jesus either," I said.

That really made Nanny Alice mad. I think she would have hit me, if she thought she could get away with it. As it was, she chased me for half a block. I laughed at her. Later, in the car, she told Crystal what I said.

"We'll teach him better," said Crystal. "I'll see that he gets to church every Sunday from now on."

Preached the First Amendment

One day, preacher man preached the first amendment.

He yelled and screamed a lot. He said we were all a bunch of sinners and were going to hell.

Crystal made us sit in the front row. I could see spit coming out of his mouth sometimes. I wondered what his problem was.

The loose flakes of floor crunched when I ground my heel on them. I pushed my foot down real hard and tried to smash the chunk under my foot.

"Be still," Crystal whispered to me.

Preacher man glared at us. "Thou shalt worship no God but the Lord God," he yelled. His voice sounded kind of raspy. "Worship of false idols is the sure path to hell." His voice dropped to a more conversational tone. "False idols are not just movie stars and political leaders," he said, "they can be anything that you substitute for the living God. Anything other than God that you worship. Anything other than God that you pray to. God hears your prayers, hears your requests, whether you ask him or pray to a false idol. "

I wondered if all the little kids asking Santa for stuff were going to hell.

Not likely.