Mean Girl at the Pearly Gates

imageBrenda was a mean girl.  We were thrown together because we were all Sunday School together.  She was snooty but tolerated me the best she could in Sunday School because I was preferable to Mary Bragg, an overweight girl who constantly complained other girls were “talking” about her.  We usually weren’t, because we’d already done that and moved on.  I guess I was a mean girl wanna be.

At any rate, Though Brenda could tolerate me at Sunday School, it was a different story at school.  Sometimes I tried to buddy up to her, only to be rebuffed when a real friend came along.  The thing about Brenda was, she was mad about horses.  I had a horse.  From time to time, her yearning to ride a horse got the best of her and she’d ask to come ride my horse.  I was would have played with a rattlesnake if it hadn’t bitten me too many times, so I was glad to have her. We doubled up on Ol’ Frosty and plod along being good friends as looming as the ride lasted.

Once in a great while, Brenda and her older sister Sandy, also a mean girl, the age of my older sister Phyllis, would invite Phyllis and me over.  One Sarurday, we all climbed on the honeysuckle-covered fence in their backyard and slid all one long, glorious afternoon.  I remember Phyllis asking if they were sure it was okay.  Sandy answered , “Sure, we climb this fence all the time.”  We rode that fence to the ground. The next day in Sunday School, Brenda was mad at me.  It seems they’d gotten a “whuppin” for our afternoon’s shenanigans and Mr. Davis “wished he could get his hands on us!”  I never cared to go back over.

Several years ago, I saw Brenda’s obituary in the paper.  I wonder if she’ll talk to me in the unlikely event I meet up with her in heaven.  I know for sure I won’t be swinging on the Pearly Gates with her.