The Story Behind Holy Water in a Ketchup Bottle.

My eccentric cousin, who we’ll call Cher from now on, loves all of the mystical practices, including fortune-telling. I’m in no way against these practices. I find them fascinating and interesting. I do believe some people are scammers who prey upon the most eager. Cher is certainly one of those most eager and it shows.

She walked into a tent at the County Fairgrounds to receive a reading from a fortune-teller. The woman spoke of a long line of illnesses and deaths in the family. (If you’ve ever researched your ancestry, every family will show a long line of illnesses and deaths.) This fortune-teller knew Cher was on the hook, so she told Cher the illnesses and deaths were due to a family curse. Curse?!

Well, we must do something about that, right? The fortune-teller knew how to lift the curse, but it would cost another $100 for that information. This fortune-teller may have been able to see Cher’s eagerness, but had no idea how cheap she was. Cher was tight. The kind of tight who gives $10 in a wedding card from her, her husband and two kids. The kind of tight who buys a three-piece gift set and splits it up to give three separate gifts. So $100 was out of the question and laughable. Cher left the tent, determined to find out how to lift the curse. If only the fortune-teller had known.

Cher had a friend, who was a Native American medicine woman. (Of course.) This medicine woman was happy to give Cher all of the information she needed to lift the curse. Free of charge! All she needed was a sage plant, a white candle and holy water. I have no idea what holy water has to do with Native American culture, but who am I to question it?

I received a very excited phone call from Cher, explaining all of this information she received from the medicine woman. She then explained that in order to have a successful curse lifting, as many family members as possible should participate. She said that we should light the candle and sprinkle the holy water in each corner of the house, while repeating a chant. I asked, “What about the sage plant?”

Cher paused, “I think it’s just there.” Makes perfect sense, right? I then explained that I purchased my home from a pastor, so I was certain my house had been blessed, possibly several times. I tried so hard to politely tell her I thought it was unnecessary. I hung up the phone chuckling and shaking my head, thinking that was the end of that conversation.

I was wrong.

Over a week had passed after that phone call with Cher. I was working one evening, alone with my client, when Cher unexpectedly showed up at the salon. She was smiling broadly and carrying a brown paper bag. She could see my surprise as I greeted her. She sashayed past me and spoke in a low and suspicious tone, “I got the stuff,” then continued through the salon into the backroom.

I nervously looked at my client through the mirror. She had a confused look on her face, no doubt wondering what illegal substances were in the brown paper bag. I excused myself, as I sighed and rolled my eyes, before heading to the backroom. Cher stood proudly next to the bag, still smiling. Impatiently I asked, “What’s going on? What stuff?” I was clearly annoyed to anyone paying attention. Cher didn’t pick up on that.

“The stuff to lift the curse!” Cher pulled out the candle, the sage plant and a piece of paper with writing on it. Those were the directions and the chant. Next she pulled out a plastic ketchup bottle with a clear liquid in it. I asked what it was and Cher exclaimed, “It’s holy water!”

I couldn’t believe what I was looking at, a plastic ketchup bottle with holy water in it. I was afraid to ask, “Where did you get it?”

Cher: “At the Catholic Church.”

Me: “What…they just hand out holy water?”

Cher: “Noooo…It’s right there in a big sink when you walk in.” She laughed like I was being silly.

Me: “You stole it?? How did you remove it?”

Cher: “With the ketchup bottle.”

Me: “Oh my God. Okay…I have to go back to work.”

Naturally, my client wanted to know what that was all about. So I told her the whole story. She laughed. I laughed. We bonded over my cousin and her craziness, you understand.

I did not follow my cousin’s instruction, although I told her I did. Will I go to hell for that? We’ll see. I guess it boils down to, what makes a person feel better? Did Cher find comfort in performing this ritual on her house? Did it bring her peace? If so, then good for her. For me, it felt silly, unnecessary and pointless. In the meantime, people still get sick and die, with or without a curse. I guess one could say, this is the ketchup bottle we call life.