Meeting Mother Eve

Note to Carol: I realize that many of my blog posts are more of general recollections than stories. This is going to change soon. My family is coming down this weekend for general conference, and my mom is going to bring my mission journals, which should help me to recreate specific scenes better and show instead of telling. 

Bloomfield had its share of drunken Indians, but it wasn't until I came south that I met anyone who claimed to be in the earthly reincarnation of Mother Eve.

Elder W and I rode along Central, the primary thoroughfare that still boasted gaudy remnants of the days when it was a thriving segment of the storied Route 66. Bowling allies with chipped signs, diners with enough grease on the menus to lubricate the all the cars that passed in a day, and strip clubs that catered to all sorts of erotic preferences passed as Elder W and I biked along Central in search of lost souls.

We didn't have to search long. Elder W's strategy was to squeal to a halt on his bike, accosting pedestrians with sudden declarations of our message. Though I lacked his experience, I still though this approach had the tendency to alarm people, especially when we pulled up one either side of our target, blocking the escape routes. I liked to wait until people noticed the two white guys biking in suits with their right pant legs pulled up to avoid getting caught in the gear shifts, then answer their questions and steer the conversation into gospel waters.

Today, the first person who took evident notice of us was a woman wearing black and white robes, carrying a staff in the shape of a serpent. Even if she hadn't called out to us, her appearance was more that enough to merit our attentions, so we stopped our bikes to talk.

"Hey, how are you?" Elder W said.

"Just walkin' along," she told us.

"Good! Have you ever seen us around? Missionaries, biking up and down the street?"

"Oh, I seen y'all," she said, thumping her staff. "Y'all are missionaries."

"Yeah," I started to say.

"Do you want to hear our message about Jesus Christ?" Elder W asked.

"Oh, I know all 'bout Jesus," said the woman. "I'm Mother Eve. I walk the earth to call people to repentance. I am the Mother of God."

It occurred to me that ecclesiastical help might not be the kind of help she needed in her life, but we remained polite. "That's a nice staff," I said.

"Oh, I been walkin' with it for years," she said. "You boys ready for repentance? I gonna help usher in the Lord."

That was about the time that Elder W decided there might be other souls out there who were a little more prepared to hear our message. We bade her farewell and mounted our bikes in search of the next willing listener.