Today, a church memory. Our family spent a lot of time at church. We went on Sunday mornings, Sunday evenings, and Wednesday evenings. I’m not sure if it’s because we now go to a basically non-denominational church or if the times have just changed, but I don’t seem to see many churches even HAVING all those services anymore. I enjoyed my childhood church experiences, and wouldn’t for anything trade all the verses I learned as a child in Sunday School, Bible School, Wednesday Night Class, you name it …
A few times a year, our church would hold revival services. Revivals involved a special guest team coming in and holding services each weeknight. Often, there would be a team from Hardin-Simmons, which I see from Googling is still around. It was always exciting to see a photo of the team in the church bulletin, learning who would lead music, who would preach, who would lead the kids, etc.
Anyway, one night we were at revival services. I was probably about 6. My younger sister had brought along her doll, Plumpy. Plumpy was a plastic doll who looked a bit like a female Buddha. She was fat and round, with her hands over her large stomach. When you squeezed Plumpy, she would loudly squeal.
The revival preacher announced prayer time, and I suppose I had been standing in the pew area, because my dad told me to sit down. I did – right on top of Plumpy! She let out an ear-splitting squeal, right in the middle of the prayer. I almost died! My mom looked over sternly from her spot on the piano bench, and my dad quickly pulled me down by the arm.
After the prayer, the preacher looked up and asked with a smile, “Who sat on the baby?”
Memory is a child walking along a seashore. You never can tell what small pebble it will pick up and store away among its treasured things. ~Pierce Harris