Personal Narrative: Religion In America

When I was younger, around age 7 probably, it was around December and it was super cold and my church was doing Posadas, a tradition for some Mexicans and Mexican- Americans, for about a week and a half before Christmas. On one of those days that I went, my friend, America was also there. She was younger than me and always wore her hair up in ponytails and sometimes wore a small bow in her hair. I only ever saw her in church and church related things. So we never talked during church because then Father Mac, the pastor who was somewhat bald, and he just started preaching there a while back, would literally stop church to call those who made any type of noise out. So when America and I finally got a chance to talk and play without getting yelled