I’m proud to be the pastor to James and his mother Caroline and the Evans family. We’re in a modest size community in New Jersey, but the community and church have many longtime residents and members who think we all have old-fashioned ideas and ways of thinking. But I wasn’t surprised when Carol came to me with news that had already become known to me through others.

James was a mature eighth grader and an open thinker in his own right. Being an active eighth grader, he's fairly well known. He's known as an active boy at school and in a variety of activities. He’s neither an angel nor a devil. Those in our church and around his family also know he looks very much like his mother. He, like his mother, has long sandy-blond hair and people are not surprised when they mistake them for each other when seen from behind.

When they went someplace new to eat or stay he was often mistaken for a girl, even from the front. It was March and the medical center near us, where his mother was a nurse, was part of a larger group of medical hospitals and clinics. It announced, there would be mother-daughter events, held the weekend before Mother’s Day.

Carol had been on the phone talking to her sister about the event; she was saddened she did not have her daughter to take to the event. It was already known she could adopt her niece, or neighbor girl to go with her to the event as she often did. But it was a reminder that she could no longer safely have another child, though she wanted a girl.

While his mother was talking to her sister James came home from school, into the room behind her. An idea quickly came to him and he broke into their conversation. He spoke so his Aunt could hear, “Don’t worry Aunt Beth, daughter Jamie has decided to go with her to the festivities.”

He could hear the laughter from the other end of the phone. She quickly responded much as his mother would. “Nice thought, but you’re too old to innocently dress up and attend as a girl.”

That was when James announced this was the 21st century and that he could handle it. “We’re not living in the 1900s anymore. I’m a 21st-century male!”

The last time they went out to a nice place to eat the waiter mistook him for a young woman, “What would you like to order miss?” Someone already complimented that his parents should be happy to have such a nice-looking young family with a daughter who looked like her mother and a son who looked like his father. It was in a way partially James’ fault as he wore his hair long, often wore pastel colors, and his soft smile also lent itself to the mistaken identity.

He already trusted that the girls from his school who lived in the neighborhood; would have good-natured fun with him doing so. But he expected that they would enjoy helping him to be Jamie.

Carol cut short her phone conversation with her sister to address him; “How dare you break into my conversation like that and announce something so silly? What would you say if I took you up on your offer, thinking you were serious and I got my hopes up? It could have hurt; you know how I’m sensitive about this.”

James said, “But Mom, I am serious. I just thought of the idea, and I think it is a good one. I am closer to Dad, despite not being a lot like him. How many times have I been mistaken for your daughter? I just thought it would be special if I could do this for you! It’s time I did something with you. You do so much for us.”

Carol sat on the edge of her bed and patted the mattress for James to do the same. “I appreciate your good thoughts, but they’ve just announced there could be some things you wouldn’t want to take part in and the date is the weekend before Mother’s Day. They haven’t indicated all that it might be. What if it were a weekend event that included makeovers, hairstyling, and a program geared for women?”

James said, “I hadn’t thought of that but it would be fun if I volunteered for something like that.”

Easter was coming early in April this year, and it was two weeks before Easter; the parent corporation announced the Mother/Daughter event would be on Saturday and Sunday of that weekend. Mom had already announced, “The week after Easter I will go shopping for a spring dress or two; would you want that for you? I’m sure your good friend Marcy would go shopping with us.”

My agreement led to my heading over to Marcy’s house to look at spring dresses online. Mom suggested narrowing down what we would be looking for. Marcy and I have been friends for as long as either of us could remember. I would get teased at school but I knew with Marcy and most of the others it would be good-natured fun. Marcy’s mother and her sister liked what I planned to do for my mother. Once over at their house, Mrs. Robins had fun brushing out my hair and put it into a French braid. She swept my hair in the front and gave me long flowing curls hanging on the sides. She then insisted I wear a skirt and blouse and walk around the block once.

I wouldn’t give in to the thought that I’d be embarrassed. I changed as suggested and Marcy and I as Jamie walked their dog Sparks to the park and back. It was a mild day so I didn’t have the excuse to wear a long coat to cover my appearance.

Marcy had Teresa and Molly meet us at the park and walk home with us. It was a long Saturday of being introduced to a girls’ world. Since Marcy and Teresa had little sisters and brothers, we were recruited as good girls to make up their Easter baskets.

When my mother got home from work, she told me she had put in our reservation for the weekend. Despite originally being my idea, I felt some weight to her making the reservations. I was now committed to following through. My mother was amused by my girl’s time over at Marcy’s. She complimented the soft look on my face and asked if I would put on one of the outfits we had bought for me to wear around the house.

I was surprised at how nice it felt putting on chemise under a blouse and a pair of satin panties under the skirt instead of my underpants. I didn’t expect things to feel so soft and smooth. They sent chills through me, giving me a sense of pleasure that I hadn’t experienced. My mother asked me to help clean the house and put out the last of the decorations for our family’s Easter gathering that we were hosting. I said, “You didn’t have to get me to change clothes to help you with the housework. I sometimes help if we’re the hosting family for the gathering.”

Mom said, “Yes, but your dressing as Jamie is one of my added perks this year. I thought you’d speak up if you didn’t want to do it.” She asked, “Are you willing to share an Easter basket with Monica in the morning?”

Monica is Aunt Beth’s daughter; she’s a year older than me and she also has a resemblance to my mother. She and I get along quite well. I responded, “Sharing a basket will be fine, but I hope it doesn’t mean it will be a girly basket.” My Mom was unusually quiet so I asked, “What does the silence mean?”

Mom acknowledged, “I won’t promise about the girly part.”

“I hope you haven’t gone overboard.”

Mom went quickly to the laundry room, so I didn’t hear her response.

My brother Dan came up from our finished basement, carrying things to be put away in our rooms. He lightly laughed, “I’m glad I didn’t volunteer as you did. It is bad enough to get teased by girls who like what you’re doing.” He asked, “Would you be willing to have a catch outside after we’re finished helping here?”

Mom calls from the basement, “It better not be a demanding game of catch, your brother has a skirt on. I don’t want him getting messed up to where he would need to shower and change clothes.”

It was four-thirty when we were done with the decorations; we got the baseball and gloves and went outside. Aunt Beth, Monica, and the rest of the Miller family drove into the driveway. Monica bounced out of their car and came with Dan and me. She was in jeans and commented that she was more ready to play baseball than I was. Aunt Beth called me, “James could you help by taking in some of the luggage.” She also complimented me on how I looked.

By the time I got back outside to play catch, Marcy had come over and she like Monica was wearing jeans. Her brother Morgan had come over and he was now playing with Dan. Monica suggested we three girls should go into the house and find some girl stuff.

Monica was the one to suggest we retreat to my new room where she had some fingernail polish. I was the only one not to have their nails done yet, and I was not volunteering. They didn't ask. Monica trimmed and shaped my fingernails but Marcy stopped her there. “Let’s at least have Jamie paint her left fingernails, and then we’ll determine if she can do the right hand or if we should take over.”

I chose a mauve polish that I was sure they would say no to, but instead, they complimented me on not picking the cherry red. We were just about done when Marcy and her brother were called home. Marcy jumped up and gave me a girly kiss and hug as she ran from my bedroom.

Monica cautioned me to wait until my nails were good and dry. By the time, we were going back to the main floor, the doorbell rang and our grandparents were coming through the door.

I had intended to be changed back to my boy clothes by then, but now everyone else was determined I should stay as Jamie. Grandma quickly spoke to me, “I wasn’t in favor of you dressing as Jamie, but I see you look just darling. I know you have made your mother very happy.”

While everyone was visiting, it was determined Grandma and Grandpa would be using the guest room, and Aunt Beth and Uncle Bill were using Dan’s room. Mom came over to me, “I hope you won’t be too upset but Monica is to stay in your room with you. You will each need to use the bathroom to change and do the necessary things. Dan and the other cousins will sleep in the big room downstairs.”

I asked, “Why can’t I be down there and let Monica have the room for herself?”

Mom surprisingly said, “Aunt Beth and I decided since you painted your nails and decided to stay as Jamie. We decided that we could trust the two of you to share the bedroom. Aunt Beth said, Monica was hoping to have some time to fuss with you as two girls.”

“Mom that was not my intention.” But it did end up the way it would be.

Sunday morning was the first time I got two large plastic eggs with pantyhose. Our Easter basket was pink and white, and it had two vials of perfume one for each of us, as well as sticks of lip gloss and small caches of makeup.

I was spared from having to go to church dressed as Jamie, instead, I got to stay home.

While I was alone, I got a call from Maria Giuliano, “Hi is this Jamie?”

I answered using Jim’s voice, “I’m Jim.”

Maria said, “I want to talk to Jamie.” When I told her we were the same person. she said, “I’m Maria Giuliano, and my mother, Rose, works with your mother at the hospital. So I need to talk to Jamie.” She continued to insist that she was to talk to Jamie and not me.

Finally, I agreed; and changed my voice. “Okay,” she waited until I introduced myself, “Hi, I’m Jamie. Is it alright, if we talk now?”

“Hello, Jamie, I’m Maria and my mother Rose works with your mother at the hospital. And we’re going to the Mother/Daughter events as well. I’m hoping we can be friends over that weekend. I know your friend Marcy at your school. I go to Union Catholic and I would like to talk to you about Jamie coming to our dance next weekend at our school. I intend to get my boyfriend Dallas to dress as Darla. If you and your friend Marcy came we could be a foursome.”

I knew her mother Rose; we had met and I considered her a friend. I asked, “Did your mother or mine put you up to this?”

Maria was upset by my innuendo, “It’s my idea, and so far our mothers don’t know about this. …I know Marcy and some others from Roosevelt High. I talked to Marcy and she’d be open to it if you are. She thought your mother would eventually be okay with it as well.” She asked, “Did you get a satin scarf from my mom this morning? It should have pink, lavender, and yellow flecks in it. I thought the dance would allow you to wear it and get used to looking like an attractive girl.”

I was honest with her, “I didn’t know your mother gave it, but the lavender, pink, and yellow are a bit overpowering and too girly for me.”

Maria said, “That’s the way it is supposed to be, and why coming to the dance would be helpful. We’re all going to the Mother/Daughter events and I want you to be comfortable in girl mode; do you understand?”

We talked for a half hour and I was still on the phone when others came home from church. I knew my phone already had a message from Marcy. And I had given in to Maria’s request to go to the dance if Marcy and my parents approved. I was beginning to dislike that I ever volunteered to be Jamie.

I called back to Marcy without checking the message. Marcy quickly asked, “Does your Mom work with Rose Giuliano?” When I said yes, she asked, “So did Maria call and speak to you as well? ...I will be willing to go if you can get permission.”

Marcy said, “I think it will be neat to see how this Dallas guy looks dressed as a girl. I knew there’s a Dallas that plays sports for St. Joe’s that is Union Catholic’s partnering school.”

My call from Marcy was interrupted by Monica saying that our mothers wanted our help getting dinner ready.

I hadn’t changed out of Jamie’s clothes and I told Monica I would be down right after I changed.”

“Your mother insists that you come as you are as we’re going to help set the table and serve the Easter dinner to the table.”

I said, “Tell my Mom I was already changing and then I will be right down.”

“Your mother said, that will not be an acceptable excuse. She heard you talking as Jamie.” Monica hooked my arm and was tugging me to follow her. “Anyway, this is my chance to see you in action girl.”

After Easter dinner Marcy, Monica, and I walked over to the park and we lay back with our heads near each other as we were lying on the ground and gazing into the sky. Suddenly, Monica giggled, “Here we are three girls, friends relaxing, talking, and looking into the sky.”

I said, “So what’s to giggle about?”

Monica whispered, “You’re one of the girls and it seems so right.”

Marcy spoke, “I’m glad Jamie’s willing to be here for her Mom. I think that’s neat. There aren't many boys like you Jamie.”

Monica asked, “Jamie what do you like most about being a daughter or girl?”

I said, “I don’t, we see things differently. I did it because I thought I should feel closer to my Mom than I do. I wouldn’t be doing this if I had thought about what it might include.”

Marcy asked, “What do you think of the clothes you’re to wear and about learning to do your hair or makeup?”

“It’s kind of fun, I know I’m not supposed to like it. But being a boy, it’s freeing in a way, I can look pretty and not worry about people seeing me as a girl.”

Marcy spoke, “Are you going to miss it once Mother’s Day is over?”

“No,” I said, “I’ll just get back to being the regular me. It will be fun having pictures to remind me that I did it once.”

Monica says, “What will you do with your girl’s wardrobe? I wouldn’t mind a piece or two.”

“I hadn’t thought that far, usually when I stop wearing something it goes to the back of my closet; until we get rid of it. Boys’ clothes don’t usually sell well; we just ended up giving most of them away.”

Marcy says, “I think we should save these and you can dress up again when others aren’t around." She asked, Monica, when are you likely to come back to visit?”

My brother Dan came to the park and said we needed to get home as Monica and her family had to drive back to Philadelphia.

On our walk back, Marcy whispered so my brother wouldn’t hear, “You know it’s not going to be that easy to stop being Jamie.”

I said, “By then, I’m fairly sure I will be ready for things to return to normal.”

To be continued…