the shower.

we headed for the stairs, deep inside this old baptist church, and judging from the decor, it looked as if not much had been changed or updated for quite some time.  the basement sign on the wall boasted the multi purpose room was to the left so we followed the arrow. the room cast a dim light, the kind that gave your face a yellow tinge, not quite flattering, but who's paying attention to that, clearly only me in my shallow moment.  there were a handful of round tables, covered in thin yellow plastic tablecloths, each with a simple centerpiece of mason jars with battery operated tea candles tucked inside each one, surrounded by a few sprigs of silk baby's breath.  a few pebbles scattered as well. 
there were oversized ladies everywhere, they reminded me of little hens, all clucking about, busying themselves with the morning's event. i noticed one lady with vibrant neon yellow hair, it must have been sprayed numerous times the way it was perfectly displayed, like the feathers of a peacock, billowy and at attention. i watched another hearty lady, placing plastic pitchers on a table parked next to the wall, apple juice, orange juice, and again with the neon tinges, a high pitched pink drink-i guessed correctly as i would later sip-pink sherbet mixed with bubbly soda pop. 
a short rounded tea cup shaped lady grabbed a huge metal mixing bowl and began banging it loudly with a wooden spoon.  this would be how she would command our attention. why were we all here anyways? to celebrate the young bride to be, she grew up in this community of hens, and now they wished to shower her with gifts and blessing, send her off with joy and wisdom, as she was about to become a wife. she was very much loved and cherished by this community of women, she could call any of them mother, sister, friend. 
we were given permission, table by table to be dismissed to head to the buffet table, we were there during brunch time after all..what would we find? a crock pot of gelatinous scrambled eggs, tied to chunks of sausage with stringy cheese, a large bowl of mixed fruit, small lopsided bagels with pepper jam cream cheese, garden vegetable, and honey walnut. further down the table was an assortment of store bought muffins, and then the waft of what was that-marinara? tomato? it was two large plates piled with pillowed pizza rolls. this all felt like a wes anderson film and i was inside it, with all its bizarreness, neon 80's vibes, and awkward silences coupled with jarring metal bowls being banged with the spoon. 
and yet, i found myself rejoicing inside. i was happy for her, the bride to be. here, i saw, she was loved and cherished. in this conservative outdated basement, these ladies truly loved her, and this was a great act of love, throwing this shower for her. i walked into this beat up, ho dunk church, my nose rising almost immediately in judgment, looking down at this place painfully stuck in an older era, with its dusty fake flowers and bad lighting, with feathered hair and glasses shoved on the ends of wart speckled noses hanging by chains..but shame on me. shame on me for judging by the outward appearance. shame on me for judging pizza rolls being served at a wedding shower.
this was an act of genuine love. a kind and generous way to welcome a chick into the hen world. a young woman who would soon become a bride, a wife..that's what was going on here. certainly not an opportunity to show off, one up, or miss the point entirely with decorations and lavish food. if i thought for a second, you are doing this all backwards-then i am the one that's wrong. 

standing here in this dim lit musty smelling basement, i was on holy ground.