Mistletoe and Holly Rollers

Our neighbors already have their Christmas tree up. I think it's a bit early considering we haven't even celebrated the Pagan holiday of Halloween yet, kids.

But, they're a nice African family that has converted to a loud, arm-waving form of Christianity. I know this because every Wednesday and Sunday their rejoicing can be heard from, oh, at least half a block away, where JennyJenny8675309 and I live.

Every other night of the week, though, they tone it down a bit, and I can only hear them when I take Wonder Dog Bean for her evening poopscapade. "Hellabejembala! Zerefuzinustikana! Lalalabamba! Heefrontigrajubinatia!" sails out of their windows as they celebrate.

I don't mean to eavesdrop, but they congregate at the dining room table in front of their windows right next to the Christmas tree, holding hands and speaking in tongues. I can't help but listen.

I went to a Pentecostal church once, when I was about 12 years old. We were in Kentucky because my Aunt Jennifer, my Step-Mom's sister, was in the hospital. So, as my Step-Mom and the rest of the family visited with Jen, I stayed with relatives and family friends for safe keeping.

At one point, I spent a night or two with my Step-Mom's Best Friend, Becky, who is unquestionably a lovely woman. So when she drawled in her thick accent, "We'd just luuuuve for you to come to Sunday service with us," I didn't give it a second thought. In my house, after church we went to Bob Evans, so I was mostly excited about the biscuits and gravy I expected to follow.

In any case, that is how after many, many, many years of reserved Catholic masses, I ended up going to a Pentecostal church. No one told me what I might encounter, though I wish they would have.

I stood in awe, disbelief and fear as people next to me convulsed and collapsed and capitulated to Christ's love by screaming, shouting and spitting. Growing up, my friend David had Tourette's Syndrome, so I assumed we had gone to a "special" church for people like him. I thought it most polite if I just stayed still with my head down and tried not to stare.

But, the friendly Pentecostals would not have it that way. They invited me up to the alter for repentance.

"Go on. Jesus is waiting for you. Go free yourself from sin, 123Valerie. It's alright. Jesus loves you," Becky said.

Skinny, bird-legged 123Valerie slowly made her way to the carpeted alter as adults shuddered and shouted around me. I kneeled down and said, "God, I am sorry that I have ever made fun of mentally disabled people. If you get me out of this special church alive, I promise I will never, ever be mean to someone with challenges again."

And that was that. He got me out. Since then, I haven't made fun of people with mental disabilities or people with emotional issues, though I am fairly hard on people who drive Mini Coopers.

In the Comments section, tell me about an interesting religious experience you've had. The winner of the best story gets to help JennyJenny8675309 and I put up our Christmas decorations. Tomorrow.