entry for writing.com pageant--the prompt is "confidence" |
Ridinghood at Fifty Ridinghood knows confidence grows at home. Home was a SouthSide row house, in the flats. Lying flat on her back,from the window, Ridinghood saw the cupoid dome of St. Josephats, high on the hill. Gramma's house was on that hill. Ridinghood was shriven of original sin at St. Joe's. But Gramma was washing her in the waters of gypsy lore. Tales of spells and symbols seeping into interstitial tissues. It was only Gramma that whispered that Ridinghood was born of the caul. Born with a hood, a rosy amniotic sac. Gramma said a strawberry mark, a mark of acclaim. Some believed, a mark of shame. Ridinghood grows in confidence. She shrugs off the scarlet cloak of youth. Ridinghood knows you must swallow the wolf whole, into yourself. No longer content with seduction by wolves. No longer a woman who dances for wolves. No more passive, helpless, beautyqueen femininity. Ridinghood knows shallow lives make shallow lines. Ridinghood no longer eats the bread of shame. She knows God's gifts groan to be shared. She has manna in her basket. She sets a sumptious table. Ridinghood knows old tales can be retold, and old heroines reclaimed. She knows beauty is only skin-deep. Confidence burns in your bones. A caul is formed on an infant, from amniotic tissue if the membranes have not ruptured prior to the mother starting labor. Bread of shame is a Jewish term that refers to what occurs when we offer God ingratitude and miserliness for the good we have been given. |