Wanting and the Color Purple

1990. 16 years Old me.

Since getting in trouble, I’d had to work extra hard to earn my privileges back. Answering questions at the meetings was a privilege. Going door to door, you guessed it, a privilege. Being invited to associate with other youths my age a privilege. Once you are deemed bad association, becoming good again in the eyes of judgment parents who know knowing of your story and who are conveniently sure that their kids are a thousand percent better than what you ever were…ya, well it’s not fun stuff. I spent a lot of time alone and had set my sights solely on the goal of returning to my Pioneer Status. This would be the only way to be matched up with a suitable Missionary partner.

One night at dinner, I asked my Pa something I’d never asked him before. “What do you think of the word Want?”

He looked up from his plate of mashed Potatoes and Marlin steak. I had never started this game and usually, our playing it had something to do with a preemptive form of punishment. “I don’t know,” he said. “Get out the concordance and let’s see.”

Normally we go for content words, not verbs, so there was a part of me that was eager to find out what actually the Holy book said. “It’s here. Want is 31 times. Wanted is 3. Wanteth is 7. Wanting is 8 and Wantonness is twice” I told him. “Never heard of wantonness.”

“Hmmm,” was his reply which I now believe means he had never heard of it either. We didn’t hang out much with Second Peter.

I was scanning my fingers down the summary of each scripture. He was chewing and not paying much attention to me, but then he spoke mid-chew. My little sister covered her eyes because that should have been a finger-breaking event, and he said, “what do you want?”

I was caught off guard. I hadn’t said I wanted anything, had I? “To be a pioneer. To have friends. To be able to marry like everyone else and still go to Bible School of Gilead. You know that they have trained more than 8,000 men and women from all parts of the world.”

“Yes I knew that. But more to the point, you will be a pioneer. You are turning in your time again. And you do have friends. Vicky and you were hanging out…”

I cut him off, “She is twenty-four. I mean with people my age.”

“You will be married and if your husband has the same goal to be a missionary, you and he can decide to apply to Gilead. But those are goals. And actually, they are commands really. What God plans for us is not the same as fleshy wants.”

I wasn’t sure where the conversation was heading so I didn’t interrupt. I must have actually been a little bit worried because my heart stated to race and I moved my hands under my butt. And I was even relieved when he promoted me to read to him what the bible says.

“Job 24:8 is about Job. We know how that turned out. The more he wanted, the more of his family who died.”

“Okay.”

“Proverbs 20:21 says fools die for want. And Lamentations 4:9 says,” I had gotten my bible so I could read it directly, “They that be slain with the sword are better than they that be slain with hunger: for those pine away, stricken through for want of the fruits of the field.” I looked at him, but he was busy eating and I don’t think even listening to me.

“None of that sounds very good,” he said. “What do you think?”

“That I should take the word want out of my vocabulary.”

“Not a bad idea,” he said. “Unless you want” and he lifted up his tie, “a dress that matches with this purple.”

“Purple?” I asked.

“Yes.” He said, “That is a more interesting word than want, isn’t it?”

“How many times does the bible say purple?” I asked him. He was talking like he knew so I was surprised because i’d never looked up a color before.

“It’s not but it should be.” He got up and left the table. He had a bible study to be at soon. Once he left the house, I sat for a while at the table. I didn’t want to give the impression that I cared to much, but when my mom went up to tuck the little kids in, I got out the concordance and looked it up. Pure curiosity, I told my self.

“Oh, my gosh!” I said out loud. “He’s wrong!”

My mom came down. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I told her, “I’m fine. But Pa is finally wrong about something.” She gave me a look that warned me to be respectful.

“And…?” she carefully and quietly prompted, “What is he wrong about?”

“The color purple. Its right here, in the bible forty-eight times!”

“It is?” she was also surprised. “What’s the first scripture?” she asked.

“Exodus 25:4.” I quickly found it. “It says, And blue, and purple, and scarlet, and fine linen, and goats’ hair,” I laughed, “well that’s not good.” I looked up another, and another, and a fourth and fifth. Each time I read them to my mother…it got to be something of a crisis.

“Okay,” my mom said, “but if this one isn’t good, we never tell him.”

“Okay, here is one in Revelations 17:4. It says, ‘And the woman was arrayed in purple and scarlet colour, and decked with gold and precious stone and pearls, having a golden cup in her hand full of abominations and filthiness of her fornication.’”

“Yeah, put that stuff away and get ready for bed. We are not telling him about this.” She looked at me, “you understand?”

I was old enough I think so I said, “why can’t we tell him, I mean I know they are all bad, but why not tell him he was wrong and that this word is in there a lot?”

“Because,” she said, “He’ll throw that expensive tie we just got him away and that is just not going to happen. He’s wearing it a lot and it seems to make him happy. It’s 100% silk you know. We got it in Long Beach.” I said it looked like plums. He said, ‘exactly.’ He bought it anyways.” I don’t think she was even talking to me, more to herself. She said, “Yeah, he never needs to know.”

As I was going up the stairs, I hollered down, “I’m thinking I’m going to tell Pa I want that purple dress I saw in the shop window on the way to the post office. It has the high Color.”

“Not funny Heather! Not funny.”