Mom and Sunday Mornings

Just Thinking…..


We went to a little one room country church when I was growing up. There was a small basement under the church and an outhouse behind it.






Going or not going to church was never an option. It was similar to no options on going to school, or going to the doctor. We just did it. We sang hymns loudly to the tunes on the old upright piano, put the numbers on the wall chart showing the offering and attendance, and played with the funeral home fans tucked into the hymnal racks. Mom would bring some cheerios in a sandwich bag to occupy our hands and mouths when we were little. Or she would take out her handkerchief (also known as “hanky”), and fold it into interesting shapes to keep us quiet. If I got really bored, I would go outside to the bathroom, and then march around the church a few times before coming back in. I’m sure my mother saw me pass the window during each round.


We had Sunday school in the basement, with wee ones in the kitchen around a little table. My mother was the teacher, and that was her passion. She loved the little ones. The rest of us were in other corners of the basement, but we could see and hear everyone down there.

Some Sundays Mom had to make the communion foods to take to church. Some Sundays she volunteered us kids to sing a special or to play a song on our musical instruments.

Now imagine Sunday mornings at our house. There were morning farm chores to be done, breakfast for our large family, dishes to wash, making sure everyone was clean and properly dressed (shoes were all shined the night before), Sunday school lesson materials such as the flannel board pictures to pack, making sure we had our music or musical instruments, and putting the pot roast into the oven before we left.


So it was no wonder that once in a while as we entered the church and slipped off coats, that Mom would find that she wore her apron to church. Or her old shoes. Bless her heart.

Father, thank You for a mother who taught us by example that worship was important.  Be with all the frenzied parents who struggle to get all the little ones to church.  Amen.

To God be the Glory,



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