Memoir: Sundays at My House: by CJ Heck

Stained Glass Window in Church

Happy Sunday, friends.

Another week is beginning and yet my thoughts have returned to my past and the wonderful memories of going to church as a little girl in a large family.

I remember in those days, people got dressed up to go to church and it was always a big production at my house.

Our dresses were all starched and ironed, the boys wore their dress shirts and pants, Daddy wore his suit and tie, and mama always wore a dress and high heels.

I can still hear the sound her heels made tapping on the sidewalk when she walked and as she climbed up the stairs into the church. I wanted to be just like her and make the very same sound when I grew up.

We always sat in the same pew, as a family, on Sunday mornings right after we children all went to Sunday school.

With six children, our family was large and we took up the whole pew in the front row of the balcony. Mama usually scooted in first, followed by the six of us, and then Daddy on the other end to complete the Parrish "sandwich".

Reverend Kaser was a wonderful pastor. By weaving the weekly Bible passages in with real life, he had the unique gift of grabbing and holding the attention of both old and young with his sermons.

I suppose it was inevitable, due to his shift work as foreman at the steel mill, but in spite of the uniquely talented Reverend Kaser, Daddy would eventually nod off ... indeed, it was a regular occurrence.

I wish I had a nickel for every time Mama would nudge the child next to her and say, "Daddy's asleep." It was then that child's job to pass the nudge to the next in line and so forth, until the child closest to Daddy poked him gently to wake him up.

It really wasn't so bad, except Daddy had a tendency to snore ...

Happy Sunday everyone.
Hugs,
CJ


"A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write." ~CJ Heck