Back in my Baptist church–going more youthful days, I sang about Heaven and heard sermon after sermon about Hell. “He-shout,” as the great Reverend called it, was sitting tight for non-devotees and unrepentant heathens. I probably been the last mentioned, in light of the fact that my Mom continually cautioned I was “going to Hell with my eyes totally open!”
My 8-year old mind evoked pictures of falling into a striking, nightmarish pit of flame and brimstone, my eyes greater than Marty Feldman’s, just to find that everyone I knew was down there as well, including my adored Mommy. “All things considered, look who’s here!” I’d say with a grin.