Prayers of a Small Town Tex-Mex Kid

Childhood Memories

Prayers of a Baptist Tex-Mex

I was a God-fearing Christian as a child. Not because my parents forced their religion on me. They didn’t even go to church, or even cared if we went.


At Calvary


This is a church hymn I grew with when I attended the Oyster Creek First Baptist Church. I would become excited when our pastor asked us to turn our hymnal books to At Calvary. It was certainly one of my favorites. I associated it with the community of folks who would gather on Sunday mornings, most of them gray-haired grandparents, dressed in their Sunday best, displaying their huge, often toothless smiles, and just being the genuinely, kind people they were. I put together a few photos I had of some locations there. This is the Oyster Creek I remember, and though there is more than just old homes, streets, and empty fields in this small town, I have found the most beauty in these simple, yet decaying, facets of life.

“The Devil made me do it.”

Childhood Memories

The following is based on factual events, though some details and names have been changed to protect the innocent. But we all know, no one is really innocent. We are all guilty, and we have the Devil to blame.

“The Devil made me do it.”
“The Devil made you do it?”

The officer’s chuckle made it obvious he thought I was full of it.

“Oh yeah, you think it’s funny. Then you’re laughing at God too.” I wanted to yell.

My parent’s furious facial expression meant an ass whipping when we got home. You know, one of those where the belt gets swung all over the body, chewing chunks off the skin.