Yevet Tenney

The brown water from my body has swirled down the drain along with the grime and oil from my matted hair. The stench from the sweat under my armpits has given way to the sweet smell of deodorant. My teeth sparkle with fresh toothpaste, and the scarlet sunburn on my face has turned golden tan.

Today I taught my Bulgarian adopted son, Paul, the lyrics to “The Star-Spangled Banner.” Though he has been in the U.S. for eight years, he still doesn’t understand the nuances of the English language. So I had to explain the imagery of the song. I found myself marveling again at the rich, poetic imagery that leaps from the words Francis Scott Key penned on September 14, 1814, after a grueling 25-hour British bombardment at Fort McHenry in Baltimore.

I was dressed in a long, white sequined gown that glittered and caught the light at every turn. My husband, Reg, wore a white tuxedo, gloves and an elegant tie. My gloved hand rested on his arm as we emerged from the limousine stepping onto the marble entryway of the towering mansion.

Lately I feel the need to laugh! My life is a tangled web of one problem after another. I worry about the stupidity of politics. I worry about the war! I worry about the kids, I worry about the educational system, I worry about the housework and the price of gasoline. There is so much to worry about; I feel overwhelmed.

In the musical play, Camelot, the queen sings a song that has become my theme song these last few weeks: “Where are the Simple Joys of Maidenhood?” Guinevere’s lament is, of course, about her lack of knights in shining armor who have shown their valor in battle for her or who have jousted for her honor. My lament is a cry for peace.

The Bible is an unending river of goodness and wisdom. When I was a child it was a library of compelling stories my parents and my Sunday school teachers used to coach me about the perils and evil persuasions of life. David and Goliath became my fight against the challenges of life.