Digging Up the Devil

What follows is a true story, which, when I asked Mom, one day, prior to her passing (she went Home to the Lord in December 1988), if she remembered it, she did but was totally surprised that I did. I asked her why she was surprised and she said "you were five years old when that happened, that's why!"

I guess that was surprising, especially when one considers that I cannot, for the life of me, remember squat now.

Anyway, on with the story. 

I was five, meaning the year was 1962. We lived in a nice little subdivision, in Natchez, Mississippi, the city of my birth.

I recall it being a bright day, full of sunshine and I was in the house. For whatever reason, I was looking for Mom and I recall hearing something, just outside the front door.

I opened the door and down, lower, by a few feet, was Mom, digging next to the porch (she told me later she was planting some flowers). Well, folks, I lost it. Bear in mind, I can still feel what I felt that day, so many years ago, when I experienced this, just like it's taking place again.

I screamed! DON'T!!! STOP!!, PLEASE STOP!!

Well, she looked up at me like I had lost my mind. She said "Ronnie, be quiet! The neighbors are going to think I'm beating you!"

Well, I didn't care what who thought. I told her again to stop. 

She realized that to begin digging again would simply cause her obviously crazed son to begin sounding off again, so she laid the shovel aside and came into the house with me, where she asked me what my problem was.

Now, folks, if I didn't mention it before, I will now. I had just completed my second or third 'tour' of VBS (Vacation Bible School), at our church, so the lessons I learned were still somewhat vivid in my mind.

The lesson that caused me to alarm my mother was basically that not only was the devil real but that he resided below us, in the center of the earth. Now, for any theologians who may be reading this, relax and remember, I was five and I was explaining my position to my concerned mother, who was slowly realizing that my apparent fear was very real.

After my explanation, Mom told me (many years later) that she felt stuck between a rock and a hard place. She wanted to explain to me, yet she also was quietly proud that I had been paying attention in class and didn't wish to dissuade me. So, she assured me, "no more digging." 

Folks, I fully realize this story may not mean a hill of beans to anyone, outside of me, reading it. I placed it here because of the feeling that I can still vividly recall to this very day. It was a feeling of sheer terror, that my Mom, was about to innocently unleash the devil himself into the world. Of course, through the ensuing years, I would eventually surmise that I just had failed in my mission, based on the number times my Mom threatened to 'knock the devil out of me.' 

Out of the mouths of babes....