"There's something in the water. It always brings you back home." Leaning over the baptismal font my dad's words came to mind as Dr. McCall gently raised his wet fingertips to my forehead.
"In the name of the Father"
Tap, lower, dip.
"The Son"
Tap, lower, dip.
"And The Holy Spirit."
Tap.
This seems as good a time as any to note that unlike some Christian denominations, Presbyterians do not dunk. There are no rivers, no pools, and no need to hold one's breath. Much like our services, we lean towards the understated. We weren't nicknamed the "Frozen Chosen" for nothing.
Instead, a few short months after a new baby is born, their parents don them in beautiful white gowns, carry them to the front of the church and promise to raise them in the Christian faith with the help of the congregation. Three sprinkles of water later, they're baptised.
I was not a baby though. I was fifteen. (And while I do have a tendency to run late, even I have to admit that fourteen years and eight months was an all time record.)
We weren't new to the church, my parents were actually married there and raised my sister and me within its walls since birth. They just didn't baptize us as babies. My dad, most likely in protest of his Catholic upbringing, was dead set on having us make that choice for ourselves. He didn't think something of such importance, something so personal, should be taken lightly. He felt we should make the choice for ourselves if we wanted to be Christian, and if we did, if we wanted to be Presbyterian.
Which is how at fifteen, newly graduated from my confirmation class, I found myself standing in front of a congregation I'd known since birth (most of whom had probably forgotten I wasn't already baptised) leaning over as Dr. McCall lifted that cool water to my forehead. Savannah River water. The same water I made lemonade with, that fanned out from the sprinklers and ran down our slip-n-slides. The same water that bordered my hometown and filled the canals I crossed every day to go to school. The very same water my dad believed had the power to always bring you back home.
"In the name of the Father"
Tap, lower, dip.
"The Son"
Tap, lower, dip.
"And The Holy Spirit."
-Courtney Khail