Growing up as a kid I got really into fantasy and science fiction. Admittedly the appreciation I attained for it has continued into my adult years. I loved to read about goblins and aliens, spells and curses, and great battles with incredible quests. I never believed in any of it however until a couple months ago towards the end of the summer when our entire family was cursed and I alone could save them.
My mom is a early riser. How I’ll never know. But the point is she loves to get up early, eat breakfast (another thing I hate to do) and walk the dog. On her walks she encounters all sorts of people. Other neurotic dog walkers, disgruntled children stumbling to the school like the Walking Dead, and the Haitian community who mainly stand outside and watch for prowlers, traffic, and evil spirits.
One particular morning my mom met this lady named Peggy. Peggy lives over by the apartments in front of my neighborhood and she too is an early riser which is how her and my mom met.
This story will prove that nothing good can come from mornings.
Anyway mom and her would talk from time to time about this and that. Through these conversations it was revealed to mom that Peggy claimed to be a Christian. Seeing this as an open door to talk about her favorite subject, mom and began to discuss casual topics that everyone talks about such as concupiscence, limited atonement, and fluctuations in population and revenue of the Holy See. During this discussion Peggy began to get into some weird stuff. Stuff that isn’t found in the Bible, The Dead Sea Scrolls, the Satanic Bible, or even the cookbook from The Twlight Zone entitled “To Serve Man”. As Peggy droned on while pacing back and forth (I suspect she was beginning the first steps to a Native American Rain Dance) mom did the unthinkable–she inserted her dissenting opinion.
It would be unfair to say that Peggy got mad. It would be more suitable to say she was seething. You see, in her version of the Bible it says, “Thou shalt not be wrong” and in Peggy’s mind, mom had just accused her of violating that commandment. Her and mom exchanged the most “Christian” of sentiments and then Peggy brought out the big guns. She said, and I quote,
“I could curse you and your entire family.”
At this point mom should have fallen to her knees, bowed three times, kissed the ground, and begged forgiveness from the snatcher of souls; the destroyer of worlds. But of course in her mind the idea of cursing someone is ridiculous right?
She should have read the Harry Potter books.
A couple days went by and seems normal. But you see–curses like these take time. Gradually we started having strange happenings occur at the house. The washing machine broke, and we started having electrical problems. My grandma got sick and I graduated from PCC. Stuff like that. Over time mom started to believe that she had indeed been cursed despite her kids trying to talk some sense into her. I had a feeling that this poison would only progress, and soon our family would be brought to its knees by this “Crippling Curse”.
Towards the end of the summer we were heading to Wednesday night prayer meeting. As we were exiting the neighborhood my mom said as she pointed across the lake at the apartment complex, “There’s Peggy. There’s the lady who cursed me.”
At that moment I knew what I had to do. I knew that we are defined by our choices and its moments like this in which heroes are made. So I rolled down my window, took a deep breath, and shouted in a mighty voice which carried across the entire lake,
“I curse you and your entire family!”
I’ve never seen my mom gun the car as fast as she did. I honestly think lightening flashed from the sky in a terrific display of vengeance and raw power. Peggy stopped dead in her tracks. She stared down our vehicle as it circled the lake but in my heart of hearts I knew she was staring at me–her eyes burning into my soul to make it just like hers–void and hollow.
Mom was furious. “Why did you say that? Why would you do that? You’ve ruined my testimony!”But in my heart I knew what I had really done. I knew I had broken the chains of spiritual bondage. I knew I had crippled the “Crippling Curse”. A few days later, Peggy met my mother over by the apartments, apologized, and asked if my mom knew of anyone who had a room for rent. She also mentioned that Donald Trump owed her money. Perhaps she was preparing to curse him too.
It’s hard to know what to do with power when you first encounter it.Many heroes run–many are afraid. Some force their power upon others and subjugate poor souls to their will. I did none of these things. “With great power comes great responsibility,” Uncle Ben once said to a young Peter Parker. I hope I used my powers responsibly. But more importantly, I hope I was able to shed a ray of hope, a parcel of courage to all those who are afraid of being cursed in their lives. It may be a small difference that I made but even a pebble of bravery can send ripples of hope through generations to come.