The Histories of America by Betty Bowers

America's Best Christian, Mrs. Betty Bowers, recites the first cantos of her poem "The Histories of America" to her 5,703-student K-12 Sunday School class. Some of her and Jesus' favorite students have joyously provided illustrations for the poem.

The Histories of America - part 1 by Betty Bowers


America's not as she was today.
She wasn't even that way yesterday.
Our story's like Jesus' nativity.
Conflicting with infallibility.
This Land was found to give the Church a mate.
Or just a quickie divorce from the State.
But who cares how posterity sees us?
Soon, we'll be sipping cocktails with Jesus!

*The Ice Age*

There's no one to hunt on the frontier,
When the sole immigrant is a glacier.

*The First Visitors*

No Eden escapes human intrusion.
Someone's bound to traipse down an Aleutian.
This arrival might now be an occasion
Had they been European, not Asian.
Claiming domain in all continental,
Oh, what a shame this sprawl was a rental!

*America's First Illegal Aliens*

From Bering Strait snows to Florida's sun,
All real estate goes to him with the gun.

*The Mormon Visitors*

As His flock was gnawed by hungry lions,
Jesus popped abroad, to sightsee Mayans.
"Natives were Jews!" so the LDS say.
This came as news to bemused DNA.
They rode tidy horses that left no bones,
According to a book written by stones.
If vexing facts try to spoil your fun
Give facts the ax; buy the Book of Mormon!

*The Wandering Crew*

America reveres Chris Columbus,
Though mapping, it appears, left him nonplus.
Deplore an explorer's no sense of aim.
Chris might've known whence, but not where he came.
Failing to target his destinations,
Thinking Ming's argot's spoken by Haitians!
He found China -- or someplace tinier.
America? There was no finding her!
Thus began our rash nation's tradition:
To yawn at skill and fawn at ambition.

*The Pilgrims*

These visitors' shoes matched clasps on chapeau.
Inquisitors used to turning chap foe.
It behooved to disapprove with this sort.
Judging is seldom a spectator sport.
Puritans were pure, quite annoyingly.
Ev'ry man's Goody, a goody-goody.
They sailed when others quizzed their faith's fitness.
To assail brothers -- without a witness.
Just as nuns shun fun without compunction,
Fleeing was just a function of unction.
With decks full of prudes, docks the Mayflower,
And instead of foods, pox and a glower.
They starved, so natives gave Pilgrims a hand.
Who carved up their turkey -- and then their land.
For execution, they were witch burners,
At persecution, they were quick learners.
Out of this void, America did stem:
Folks paranoid of fanatics not them.

*Reflection*

Before it's reprised, history's revised.
Arriving surprising, unrecognized.