In West Bainbridge NY There stands an old church. To your eye I'm sure it doesn't mean much. To me, It is a church that houses so many of my childhood memories.
West Bainbridge is a small town in NY and this church sits in a valley surrounded by swervy steep roads and beautiful rivers I use to catch crayfish and swim in during hot summer days.
My grandfather was my pastor, my grandmother my Sunday school teacher, my uncle the youth/ assistant pastor. I remember singing from the pulpit with my grandfather all those old hymns. Eating Sunday lunch as a family in the dining area, along with countless birthdays celebrated here with friends and family.
The right side of the picture was a huge gym that us cousins would spend hours roller bladeing, playing basketball, or located right in the middle was a rope swing where we would spin each other till we got sick,or could no longer hold on anymore.. whatever came first.
I was baptized By my grandfather and uncle in this church.
This church holds the memories of incredible people that were only meant to be in my life for a short time but made such a big impact. Some who have gone to be with their Lord and Savior. Some that have gone their own ways but I still think about often. You see an old church, I see my childhood. I see the value... priceless.
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