MSI Press Blog

  Today's book excerpt comes from  Blest Atheist  by Elizabeth Mahlou. Mercy, part 2  I began fighting Ma at a young age. When I was small, Ma was like a god, a strong, mean, and angry one. She loomed large, powerful, and seemingly omni scient. As I grew older, however, I learned that I could fight this god and retain my dignity, and as I grew even older I found that I could fight this god and win. Perhaps my growing ability to vanquish the earthly god in my life colored my own disposition toward God the Almighty.  Small, with “dark eyes that could sparkle with delight or flash with fire,” according to relatives who remember those days, I apparently exhibited from birth a pro found orneriness. The pediatrician could not calm me at my six-week checkup and strapped me to a table, waiting for me to stop screaming. For two hours, my screams pierced the doctor’s closed window, causing passersby in the city square below to stop and wonder what was happening. The doctor sent Ma to

Today's book excerpt comes from Blest Atheist by Elizabeth Mahlou. Mercy   The Samaritan stopped because he was filled with mercy. He also had clearly been blessed with the resources to help. I stopped by habit. Very early I internalized the concept that helping even one person toward a better life is a way to justify one’s own existence. That may well have given a positive balance to the daily abuse I experienced throughout my childhood. Knowing that someone was better off because of something I had done—whether it was teaching a kindergarten class when I was in first grade, working as the teachers’ helper in conducting an extra reading group for the struggling readers in my elementary school classroom, or serving as an evening telephone resource to the eighth-grade members of my advanced mathematics class whose teacher kept confusing us with high school juniors—established a sense of self-worth that logically should never have appeared, given all the abuse I experienced