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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required "the Mormon visitors" I told her happiness was a choice. I told her she was in control of the view she possesses, I told her to believe me because I had chosen to be happy myself and it had worked without question and no regrets. Mormons came to her door to tell her about God, her daughter answered the door and gave them her mother's name, quickly followed with, “just let me get her.” after some lying about her plans, their conversation was over and they left. when the door closed, out came the rage Marie keeps inside and then, the release of her mouth. “don't you ever tell anyone my name, what the f@#$% is wrong with you?” her daughter caught my eyes and fell into embarrassment. Marie sat back on the love seat enraged and shaking that the Mormons knew her name and gave it to God. she looked over at me, my chin tucked in, my eyebrows high, I remained silent. she’d shout angrily: “I f@#$%ing hate those people, f@#$%ing happy and s@#$. there aren't enough things in this world to make you happy. not everything in this f@#$%ing world is happy.” I told her happiness is a choice. her daughter and I stood there looking at each other. I sat there wondering why this woman chose to be unhappy, her daughter stood there understanding her maturity at 12 was greater than her mother’s at 36. the Mormons were turned away, the daughter was a mockery, the mother, a victim of herself. as for me, well, I got the opportunity to photograph it. By: Chicano Eddie 9.3.18
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