My name is Jeanette Marie but everyone calls me Jeanie. Momma named me after one of her favorite aunts. I never met this aunt because she moved from Gibsonville to New York City when I was very young. We never visit her and she never comes back here to visit either. Sometimes, I wonder about her. Do I look like her? Would she like me? Does she wonder about me? But, in our family, we don't ask questions. I learned a long time ago that it's better and safer that way.

I have lived my whole eleven years in Gibsonville, Pennsylvania. Gibsonville has a population of 2,500 people with six churches. I think that's a lot of churches for one little town. We are Lutheran and my cousin Annie Finland, who is two years older than me, is an Evangelical United Brethren. We used to belong to that church until five years ago when Momma married Ivan Watkins.

Ivan was Lutheran and Momma thought that if we joined the Lutheran church, Ivan would go to church with us. He didn't. Momma seemed to like the Lutheran church. The people were very friendly to us so we continued to go there, without Ivan. Last year, Clara Mae, my little sister was born. Momma was sure that we would all go to church as a family now, but that didn't happen either. Ivan did go to church the Sunday that little Clara was baptized. I was baptized that day too. All my friends thought that it was strange for me to be baptized when I was eleven. They had been baptized when they were babies like Clara. After that, Ivan stayed home and drank beer on Sunday mornings while we were in church. Ivan was a lot older than Momma and had grown up children of his own.

Annie used to ask me who my real father was, and she couldn't believe that I didn't know. "Why don't you ask your mother?" Annie asked. As I said before, it's better not to ask questions at my house and of course, Momma never talked about it.

Annie's parents were divorced, and she went to live with our Grandma Finland when she was only three. So you can see, we both had our problems. I used to wonder why Annie didn't live with her mom but unlike Annie, I never asked her.

One Tuesday afternoon, Annie came to visit. She was excited about a tent meeting taking place at her church the following evening. Annie was determined that I should go with her.

In my mind, I thought of a big red tent with flags flying on top and jugglers and clowns to make you laugh. I loved clowns. "Is it like a circus?" I asked.

Annie wasn't sure. "Everyone in the church has to bring at least one person and I want you to go with me. Please, please come with me."

Momma didn't like the idea one bit. After some pleading and explaining that it was really a church meeting, she finally relented and said I could go. The church was only two blocks from my house and we would know lots of people that would be there.

At 7 o'clock the following evening, Annie and I were seated in the back row of the big tent. (It wasn't red and there were no clowns.) It was an ordinary brown tent set up on the church lawn. There was excitement in the air as we watched people file in and find a seat. The music was lively and loud. Not at all what I was used to. People were playing guitars and tambourines. Others were singing and clapping their hands to the music.

Finally, after several songs, a distinguished looking man in a black suit stood up and began talking about Jesus Christ. He told stories that I had heard before but this time it sounded like this Jesus was real and that he loved me. The preacher talked about a Heavenly Father. I had a step-father and a grandfather, who died when I was six. but they were nothing like this Heavenly Father the man spoke about. He made this Heavenly Father and his son Jesus, sound real. Not only were they real, but they loved me. I can't explain it; I was captivated by what he said. To this day I don't remember the exact words that the man said, but I do remember wishing I could have what he was talking about.

At the end of the meeting, the preacher asked, "Does anyone here want to know Jesus Christ as their personal Lord and Savior? Do you want to live your life for him and spend eternity with him"?

Well, I'm not sure, but I think I raised my hand and said, "I do, I do", as I made my way down the aisle and knelt at the altar. Several other people were at the altar too. They were all older than me but I didn't feel out of place.

After a few prayers and hallelujahs, some ladies from the church gave me a book and said they would continue to pray for me. They said I had been "Saved" and that now I was "a Christian", a child of the living God. I had no idea exactly what that meant but I felt really special and I knew I wanted this feeling to last forever.

I found my way back to my cousin Annie and we headed for home. Annie, as usual, was full of questions. Why did I go to the altar? What did they said to me while I was there? What did they give me and what was I smiling about? I didn't know what to tell her. I wasn't exactly sure what had just happened either. I do know, I felt warm all over and I couldn't stop smiling.

When I got home, Momma was at the kitchen table having a cup of tea. She wanted to know what happened too. When I told her that I had gone to the altar and asked Jesus to be my Lord and Savior, she was not happy. I couldn't understand that at all. It seemed to me like this was a time for celebration and ice cream. (We always celebrated good things with ice cream.) It was then that I learned the reason Momma hadn't wanted me to go to the tent meeting in the first place.

When Momma was a young girl, she said that she and her brothers and sisters (Momma has five sisters and five brothers) went to a tent meeting. When the preacher asked if anyone wanted to know Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior, no one answered. So....the preacher came down from the pulpit and took several young people by the arm and ushered them back to the altar with him. Momma's younger brother, William, was one of them. He was scared and embarrassed and he never went back to church again.

"It wasn't at all like that. I wanted to go to the altar. I wanted what the preacher was talking about".

Finally, Momma got quiet. "It's getting late Jeanie. You go to bed". Knowing Momma, I knew that this would be the last time we would talk about the tent meeting.

I wanted to talk about it. I wanted to sing about it. I wanted the feeling that I had that night to last forever. The tent meeting on the lawn of the Evangelical United Brethren Church changed my life. I read the little books the ladies gave me and started reading the Bible I got when I was baptized. It's like I was listening for the first time and I was learning something new each time. I thought that because I was what the people at the tent meeting called "a born again Christian", life would be easier for me now.

There were days when I sensed that same closeness to God that I felt the night of the tent meeting. Then some days, I seemed to get lost and do something really stupid without thinking. After one of those stupid choices, I would feel him gently drawing me back. It's like he would let me go just so far before I would hear his quite voice in my head calling me back to Him.

I've learned that being a Christian is a daily walk with Jesus Christ. However, some days I take three steps forward only to take two steps backward the next day. Trusting someone to love me and care for me unconditionally has not been a concept that I have found easy to understand. But, with each new day, and step by step, I'm growing and learning.