I went to Sunday school and mostly loved it. We had an enormous young man in charge. His booming voice in full song is still in my memory and his rumbling laugh is still echoing through the heavens and outer space.
Some of the songs had actions and the more hectic they were the more I loved them.
In the old testament there is the eye popping story of 3 outrageously brave young men who defied the king and were thrown into the FIERY FURNACE.
I used to sing with gusto but saved a deep breath for the dramatic conclusion............ instead of being fried to crisps........
GOD WAS THERE................ and with a soaring heart, I sang with all my heart
Shadrach...........
Meshach..............
AND off to bed we go!
At the time it somehow made sense to me!
It was a child I knew, who in her sweet naivety said,
"Our Father,
who art in heaven,
Hello, what's your name?"
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At a marvelous carol service at Wemmer Pan in Johannesburg with the heavenly host represented by a towering crescendo of fountains climbing the night sky to stupendous music, that I heard some six year olds singing behind me in the crowd ............."while shepherds washed their socks by night......"
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I am enchanted by the following story of a little boy who lived in a neighbourhood much like the one in which we raised our girls. His nursery school was a block away and he and his mother walked there each morning. Time passed and suddenly Jackson decided that he was a big boy and no longer needed his mother's constant company. She recognised that she needed to support him in his striving for independence but was not quite ready to let him go completely.
She spoke to her neighbour Shirley who had a little girl in the class below Jackson's who always saw her to the school gate.
She described the situation and ended by, "while I understand completely I'm loathe to let go...........I need to know that he has arrived." So together they agreed that Shirley and her little girl would leave home after Jackson had left walking on his own. So the days passed. Everyone was happy.
Jackson's mother had a spy in her camp and Shirley would wave to her, giving a thumb's up as she jogged back home.
Jackson was displaying encouraging signs of growing up in a healthy way. In fact he was often accompanied by another boy older than he was whose mother had agreed to his being able to walk to school on his own.
Weeks became months and everyone seemed to be content.
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One day Jackson's friend Clive made an interesting comment.
"I see that there is always a lady and her little girl walking behind us as we walk to school Jacks, do you know her?"
Jackson sighed deeply and shrugged his shoulders in a stoic manner........he happened to know the 23rd Psalm almost word perfectly as he and his mother often recited it together at bedtime..........
"It's nothing to worry about Clive, it's just Shirley Goodnest and her daughter Marcy who I'm thinking are going to follow me for all the days of my life........
Race you to the corner....... loser gets frog's warts!"
