by Hilda Maston
Years ago, Sally Comfort and I took care
of the nursery during the service. I really
enjoyed that job, but I had to give it up. I was
no longer strong enough to pick up a toddler who fell
and needed comforting. I was also too slow to
chase a run-away who could be halfway down the hall
before I could get out of the rocker. It was with
regret that I gave up that job. Being with those
babies was like getting a "youth injection" every week.
It not only made me feel younger, it took some of the
sting out of getting older.
Whether the Weather...
During the last few months of hot weather, wasn't it
wonderful to be attending a church that doesn't have a
dress code. You could wear what you wanted to and
be comfortable. Ladies didn't have to wear a hat
or gloves.
My contemporaries know what I mean.
Remember fluffy scratch dresses,
starched shirts with restricting ties, and the sober
business suit?
As a child, I remember wearing long
white stockings that I wasn't supposed to get dirty.
Imagine!
Some time ago, a Native American
Chief, Roy Wilson, came to teach the children something
about the different tribes' sign language. While
he "signed" the Lord's Prayer, he asked the congregation
to sing it. I will never forget the sound of the
congregation singing, with no accompaniment and no
rehearsal, a great piece of music. It was a
"little moment in time" that was quite beautiful.
Hilda's
Homily
