“Don’t Pray for me…” (Tim Skold)

Don’t pray for me
I don’t need your sympathy
I don’t want your god protecting me
Don’t pray for me
I don’t want your empathy
I don’t need your savior saving me
Don’t pray for me

Jyg found a leaflet on the door when she came to the house after school. She handed it to me. The paper was rolled up, but I recognized the M.O.: Jehovah’s Witness had made a stop at my house and left the pamphlet. I unrolled it to see that it was completely in Spanish. I sighed. “I don’t see why have to assume because we’re Hispanic, we automatically write, speak, talk Spanish.”

“What’s wrong?”

“They’re trying to save us and they’re doing it in Spanish,” I replied.

Ever since my confrontation with a Jehovah Witness and a Mormon (on different occasions, I should add), my house seems to be on top of the list when it comes to saving. Believer beware, there’s a doubter in there!

Okay, I get it. Some of you need God in your lives because it’s a foundation, others need it because of some misguided sense of morality. God doesn’t make moral, you do. And while you preach the end of the world, don’t drag me down to your hell fire. It’s just a simple favor. I don’t go around to your house with empirical data and say, “Would you like to be a doubter today? You’ll love it. You don’t have ever feel bad again. That big brother in the sky, simply gas and air. Don’t worry.”

On second thought, I’m going for a walk.


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