by Gale Acuff
I’ll believe in God when I see Him is
what I like to say before Sunday School
and afterwards but during class I pay
attention to what Miss Hooker tells us,
she’s our teacher and a damned fine one and
I’m ten years old and all I can say else
is that she makes a fairy tale sound fair
and though I participate in class and
even pray when I’m alone, mostly when
I’m scared or want something or don’t wish to
get caught at making mischief I shouldn’t
I can’t bring myself to believe it all
though maybe I believe some of it, not
in God nor Jesus nor the Holy Ghost
but how Miss Hooker enjoys saving my
soul, or trying to anyway, I can’t
bear to tell her that I don’t have one, if
I do (I would tell her) so does my dog
and so do my guppies. Then there’s music
and the old re-lacquered piano which
Miss Hooker bangs away at and somehow
out comes a hymn, “Onward Christian Soldiers,”
say, which I like a heap because one day
when I’m grown I’m joining the Marines and
invading somebody and grunting my
way up to President of the U.S.
and getting assassinated and then
I’ll find out for sure if there’s a Heaven
and Hell. Miss Hooker says we’ve got to have
faith that Jesus shed His blood for our sins
so that when our bodies die our souls rise
to Heaven for their judgment and not to
believe means Hell automatically.
And she adds that we’ve got nothing to lose
by believing–better safe than sorry
–but I don’t agree. Still, I come for more
–I hold the record for class attendance
and would hate to disappoint God even
if He doesn’t exist by ending it.
You can’t have faith any stronger than that.
I’d tell Miss Hooker so but I don’t think
she’s understand. I mean, because she would.