Samantha's Story part 4

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All day I had been looking forward to the clothing drive. It was another one of those times when you anticipate something so long that just thinking about it makes your heart beat faster.
 
Samantha's Story part 4

By Maid Joy

 
All day I had been looking forward to the clothing drive. It was another one of those times when you anticipate something so long that just thinking about it makes your heart beat faster.

Once again I wanted things to be perfect, so when I got home I did my best to look good. I found a skirt that some co-ed had tossed into the trash. I felt like the lowest of the low, pulling used clothing out of the dumpster, but you have to make do when you don’t have a lot.

It was a short jean skirt, designed to be worn over a pair of leggings. I could see why it had been tossed; a pen had broken and red ink had splattered all over a faded denim skirt. I took some creative license and broke open a black pen and scattered that ink over the skirt too. Then I took a cotton swab and bleach and used it to fade other areas to white. In the end I had something like a tie-dyed skirt.

I thought one of my tank tops and a pair of thin tights would look wonderful to complete the outfit, so I prepared carefully. All my toiletries done, I put my hair in a short ponytail, finished my makeup and powder on so that I looked and smelled nice.

I looked forward to tonight since I would get to see Millie again; but I have to admit, free food for doing a bit of work was a big part of the incentive. I guess the stereotype of a starving student was alive and well with me as the exemplar.

Focusing on English Literature from the 15th century was kind of hard to do, but I managed. I had a paper to turn in, and if I wanted to keep getting the ‘paychecks’ from the folks, I had to pass my classes.

I found it fascinating that in Shakespeare’s time it was accepted for a man to play female parts. I had no clue why that was common then, but apparently women didn’t go into being actresses. So they had to use the men who were already in the troop to play any female roles. I could only imagine what Juliet looked like kissing Romeo on the balcony.

I drifted a few minutes thinking of that, kissing Leonardo DeCaprio in the balcony scene in Romeo + Juliet. Oh, I bet his lips were soft. He was cute enough to set any girl’s heart on fire.

Then I remembered that I wasn’t a girl.

Studying made the time pass, so I was startled when my alarm went off reminding me it was time to go. I had about 8 minutes to make myself look presentable and a half an hour to walk over to the church before I was supposed to be there.

I had decided to go as I was dressed, the skirt and a T-shirt, some short heels and short socks. I wasn’t dressing up to go out and tease, I was going to work.

But I was still going as a girl, which was fantastic as far as I was concerned.

I had underestimated the time and it took me a bit longer to get there. I walked into the recreation room of the church at 7:15 instead of 7 as I had planned. Everyone was already there and working hard. I pitched in where it looked like they needed help.

Eventually, I wound up on the sorting line. There were four other ladies besides me sorting them first into Male and Female, and then by type (pants, shirt, skirt, jacket and so on) then by size. Somehow I wound up sorting the size 8 women’s clothes, just what I was wearing.

Tina, one of the other girls laughed when she saw me checking out some of the clothes to see if it would fit me. “Don’t worry about it Sam, we all do it. I think it’s in the genes.” I blushed any way but I nodded and smiled.

“More like in the jeans,” Tom stated. He was over sorting into male/female fashions. “I swear you girls come here just to see what was fashionable last year, you spend so much time looking at the clothes.”

Susan, one of the plus-sized ladies, said “Of course, how will we know what to bring back INTO fashion next year, if we don’t know what was fashionable from a couple years ago?”

All the girls and some of the guys chuckled at that; I just tried to hide my embarrassment. Tina leaned over and whispered to me, “Really, don’t worry about looking for size and how it would look on you. Experimentation is part of the whole thing. I know I’ve gotten an outfit or two from here in the past. Mom Porter doesn’t mind if you take an outfit or two, so long as there is more to give out than you take. Just let her know when you get done what you are taking, and she’ll just give you a kiss and let you take it.”

I smiled and thanked her and proceeded to sort the clothing even more. Folding the shirts and skirts, hanging dresses and underthings for others, that’s what was important right now.

I kept seeing ladies and some men coming in with bags of clothing. I thought it was odd when one man brought in a rack of clothes, all with “JC Penny’s” on the clothing covers and bags.

Tina nudged me. “This is the one that makes this work worth it. That rack has a lot of outfits from JC Penny that they can’t sell and that the warehouse doesn’t want back, so instead of throwing them out, they donate them here. There are a couple other stores from the mall that do it too.”

I noticed that no one else was anxious to get to the racks of clothes, so I ignored them as well. The guy took the extra clothes back to the store room and hung them up on the poles, since they were all hung and folded, sorted and ready to go. He then took his rolling clothes rack and left.

The night passed with work and gossip. I got to know a couple of the people around me pretty well. Susan had a gaggle of children and she was very proud of them and what they did. She spent the night bragging on their grades and how smart they were. Tina was a student at the college I was going to, and she had started pledging to Beta Sigma Phi because they had the BEST parties. Tom was in a jazz ensemble which played regular gigs on the weekends at a nearby jazz club. From the expression on his face as he talked, I could tell he had a passion for music.

“So what instrument do you play Tom?” I asked shyly.

He seemed to perk up at that. “Bass Guitar. Someone has to keep everyone on time. Part of the rhythm section, and with only four of us, that’s easy enough. Mostly we play because we like to, not for the money. The Back Alley lets us come in and play as much as we want, lets us keep any of the tips we earn and doesn’t hassle us much. They’re good people.”

Tina said “Sam and I should come out sometime and listen to you guys sometime.”

“Great! That would be fantastic. We play from 7 PM to 12 AM Thursday, 6 to 2 Friday and Saturday. We generally practice in there at least one night like Monday or Tuesday. Wednesdays I’m here and Sunday I stay at home. Just drop in, you don’t need tickets or anything, just come by and listen for an hour or two.”

Tina got really enthused and I could see that she was attracted to him. I smiled while I moved clothes around and made sure that things were neat. I listened to the chatter around me with only half my attention. I wanted to make sure that none of the clothes I took in and folded would get ruined by storage.

At 9 when the pot luck dinner was ready, I stopped long enough to go get a hot meal. There was a lot of food and I dug in like any other starving student and chowed down. I couldn’t tell you honestly what I ate, but I know there was a meat casserole of some kind, a salad and some field vegetables. There was a stew, I didn’t think it was cold enough for a stew, but the yeast rolls, oh, those melted in my mouth.

Finally, we all pitched in to clean the dishes take the trash out, clean up and leave. Millie was everywhere it seemed, encouraging and talking, showing people what to do, where to put things and just generally being the vibrating rock that everyone circled around.

I tried hard not to bother her, but inevitably she came over and gave me a hug and a kiss to welcome me and thank me for coming tonight. I tried to downplay my participation, but she insisted on attributing a lot of help to my presence.

I stayed as long as I could, and I looked through the storage rooms and the clothes the stores brought in. I did wind up with two more outfits, a silk skirt and blouse set in pale lavender that made my heart sing and my body lust to put it on. I wound up with another set of pants and two more blouses, to round out my wardrobe.

Toward the end of the night there was the inevitable time where everyone was running around confused. I used that time to pack up, let Millie know what I had and to take a final look around.

I found that I desperately needed to use the bathroom, so I headed off down one corridor to go. My business done, I made my way back to the recreation room.

Unfortunately I made a wrong turn and I found myself in the chapel.

I don’t know what happened next. I found myself moving to the front of the chapel, to where the altar was. There were the normal trappings, the Bible, the crucifix above at the end of the chapel, candles and incense. But a feeling of peace came over me.

Oh, don’t make that face, it’s what I felt. I read those stories too, where the hero or heroine winds up in a holy place and a profound sense of peace comes on them and they have visions and so on and all that magical and religious crap. I didn’t believe it either.

But I did feel peaceful, quiet, buoyant and calm all at the same time. It’s very hard to describe, but I know that I hadn’t felt like this in years. I felt like there was part of me which felt a homecoming, or a part that recognized myself and welcomed me. I felt naked and revealed at the same time I felt this joy that surpassed everything. I was dizzy.

I opened my eyes and saw that I was kneeling at the altar. I felt my tears splash on my hand and I wondered why I was crying.

It felt so right for me to be there, I didn’t know where else I could belong.

“God, You and I don’t talk much. I never really believed in You. But, please, if You do exist, please hear me.

“I’ve been a good person. I’ve helped others; I’ve done the least I could to harm. I want to be happy. The only time I’ve been happy is when I’ve been here. My parents could care less about what I truly need and I need something. I don’t know what.

“I’ll admit that I don’t want to worship You. You haven’t done much for me in the past. So while I acknowledge You, I’m not losing my mind and turning into a fervent convert.

“I’ll keep coming here, and maybe You and I can get to be friends. I don’t know yet since You ignored me when I begged for a better life. That’s why You and I stopped talking. But here, right now, I feel loved. Maybe that’s You. If it is, Thank You very much.

“Amen.”

I knelt there for a little while. I smelled old incense and I basked for a little while. I was here and I knew that while I was here things would be okay. I wasn’t being judged for anything except how good a me I could be.

It was a few minutes later that I heard the doors open. “Oh, Samantha, you’re in here. Good thing I didn’t lock up yet.” I stood up and saw Millie near the door. She was smiling at me and looked somewhat concerned. “Honey, are you okay?”

“Yes, Mom Porter, just spending a few minutes by myself.”

She nodded sagely. “It’s good to bask in the Lord’s regard for a while. But now it’s time to lock up. Come and grab your things and we can get going.”

She led me back to the recreation room, which apparently was across the hall. I moved to gather up my things and take my leave when she stopped me.

“Samantha, Sam. I know you don’t have very many girl’s clothes and going by the general state of wear on the clothes you DO have, I want you to come with me and we’re going to pick out a better wardrobe for you. Come on.”

She led me back to the store room again and we started going through the clothes that I would fit. She started pulling down skirts, pants, blouses, shirts, jackets, purses, shoes, belts and dresses that she thought would fit and started shoving them at me. She would hold something up to me, checking that it fit in the waist or through the chest, checking the color against my skin, then she either put it back or she put it in a growing pile of things for me.

Dresses, oh, she got some of the new dresses from the store donations. Beautiful diaphanous things that were nylon or silk or rayon, textures that I had never felt before on my skin. It was all heaven to hold and touch the sensuous slips and underthings, sheer blouses that were lined so I didn’t embarrass myself.

Before too long she had picked out twenty complete outfits, not just for Sundays, but every day as well. She really went like a dose of Salts through the jeans and t-shirts, the shorts and short skirts mixing and matching to get the most out of less. I didn’t know how I was going to get it all home.

“Millie, I walked here tonight, how am I going to get this home?”

“Don’t worry hon; I’ll take you home with the church van. Now, how does this belt strike you? I think it would go with the box pleated skirt over there.”

And so it went.

Finally, an hour later, I had a full wardrobe of clothes. I wouldn’t have to go out and try to buy something for some time given what Millie had given to me.

“Mom Porter, why did you do all this? Don’t others need these?”

“Sam, the clothes are for anyone who needs them. I had a feeling you need them more than most. I saw you eating, and I’d bet that you have been going on fewer meals a day than you should have. So you need to almost gorge yourself when you do eat to make up for not eating the rest of the time.”

My burning face must have told her that she was right. She put her hand on my arm. “Samantha, I’m not going to say anything to anyone. What you do is entirely up to you, and I’m not going to embarrass you either with your chosen gender preference or the state of your wallet. Your secrets are safe.

“I have adopted you because I think you need a friend and someone who can be there for you. Think of me as your Aunt or your Grandma if that makes you feel better. And ‘kin do for each other.”

Her statement shook me to the core. I don’t know why someone would be this kind to me, but here she was. My eyes started tearing up, and she turned away and started packing me up. A few moments later, I had my emotions under control and I was able to help her.

 


To be continued...

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Comments

Simple Pleasures

Acceptance and interaction with others as a woman (plus; a patron saint). Very nice. Thank you Maid Joy.

Mom Porter

The joy I feel for Samantha and especially Mom Porter, cannot This women is just Love. There are not enough people like her. My tears are still rolling down my cheeks. She demonstrates God's true love. God bless her. Love, Mary.

Vibes

littlerocksilver's picture

This story is going so very well. I get many good vibes as I read it. Life should be so nice. :) Portia

Portia

A new home and a new family

RAMI

I guess Samantha has found a new home (this church) and a new family, Millie/Mom Barker and her husband. Samantha obviously feels comfortable in this environment.

Her simple act of volunteering has repaid her many fold. She has a new wardrobe and a fuller belly. She also is developing some friends. Will she go with Tina to see Tom play? I do not think that Samantha is the type to be interested in Beta Sigma Phi, but I think it would be an interesting development, if she attended a recruiting party with Tina and was asked to pledge.

Then she could be a sorority girl, oh no, I think there is a story on this site by that title. But I guess she could be a sorority pledge instead.

RAMI

RAMI

A simple story, well told....

But always the best ones are just that.

I am enjoying our peek into Samantha's life and I hope that we get to see more of it.

Thank you for writing this.

Janice

It's funny but

I could almost feel the peace and love, someone is watching over her!

Great story.

LoL

Rita

Age is an issue of mind over matter.
If you don't mind, it doesn't matter!
(Mark Twain)

LoL
Rita

I really love this Story!

This, to my way of thinking, is the way a church should be run! Fortunately, the church I'm the organist for does operate this way. The Pastor and his wife are very much like the Pastor and "Mom Porter." I can see her taking Samantha (or any similar girl) under her wing.

The writing is very real and easily promotes a flow of tears!

Love,
Diane

next installment

Hurray! You've decided to continue this story. I've been waiting for weeks for the next installment to this wondeful story, and this one is a good as the previous ones. PLEASE continue!

Amy

With Her, Sam

Can finally fly and be free

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Awwwwww

Wow, I know how that is, jeez I remember living off of 330 dollars a month, 33% to rent, internet, and the rest for food, I ate a lot of top ramen mew, it was cheap and inexpensive xD

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I know who I am, I am me, and I like me ^^
Bisexual, transsexual, gamer girl, princess, furry that writes horror stories and proud ^^

I know who I am, I am me, and I like me ^^
Transgender, Gamer, Little, Princess, Therian and proud :D