“See how she is, Mom?”
Judith complains,
as if I were cursing.
“She does have a mouth on her!”
my grandma chirps proudly,
and winks at me.
“She’s a thinker, Judith!”
My mother is silent.
“I really am curious,” I say.
“Maybe if you explain things to me,
I won’t be practically anti-God.
Because this holy deity created tuberculosis,
polio, famine, and genocide.
He created nasty mosquitoes,
which carry disease!
People are born missing organs.
But, somehow, covering hair
is one of His main priorities?
I don’t get it!”
“Maisie needs to go to Hebrew school,”
my grandma whispers.
“She needs to understand God.”
But the word God
tends to make Judith snort.
So I’m safe.
She’ll never send me there.