I was looking through my picture albums on my iPad yesterday. I sometimes browse to find old memories that stir up a story for you. This one did just that. I’ve been writing about The Farm since early on in this blog. Grandma’s farm holds a king-sized piece of real estate in my heart so my stories often center around my memories there. And, since I am knee deep in editing my rough draft for the book, I have been writing and re-reading these stories.

For as far back as I can remember, my grandma tied a shiny dime in the corner of a clean hanky and gave one to each of us kids to take to church. The hanky for our little noses…the shiny dime for the collection plate. Then Pop-Pop gave us each a stick of Beeman’s gum. Actually, we only got half a stick till we got older. I can remember when I ‘graduated’ to a full stick…I felt so grown up.

The little church-house up on the hill has been there since June 9, 1914. It hasn’t had a lot done to it in all those years. Two rooms were built on the back for classrooms and an indoor bathroom…something we didn’t have the pleasure of when I was growing up. The windows have been replaced. The belfry was listing to one side so it’s been shored up. It has been painted countless times over the years. When my cousin Rick and his wife Charlotte got married, my Aunt Peeps painted that church all by herself so it would be fresh for the wedding. That woman loved to paint!

I have some really wonderful memories of that little church. And I’ve had some of my most traumatic there. This was the church where the little circuit preacher literally scared the pee out of me and I headed off to find God some other way. That led me to eventually becoming Jewish for twenty-seven years, and now…here I am…full circle and back to my roots. This was also the church where my parents were married, where my Pop-Pop was one of the lay-ministers, and where his funeral was held. Many Sundays I sat in the hard wooden pews as a little girl with my feet dangling mid-air, clutching my little hanky and worrying out the knot to get my dime ready for the collection. Many Sundays, Aunt Idy played the rickety old piano…it’s keys sticking and horribly out of tune. 

Aunt Idy lived in a crooked white house. She was a tiny, frail little thing…never married. She helped care for her invalid sister and brother and she was my grandma’s best friend. Once a week, Aunty Idy called to get the latest “news” for the Ritchie County Gazette. She wrote the column about the latest goings on up Dutchman road and Grandma always cringed when she saw something about herself in the paper. She abided by the rule “Fool’s names, like their faces, always seen in public places.” It was usually something like “so-and-so had a visit this week from such-and-such from somewhere” or “Mr. & Mrs. Somebody went to Parkersburg this week to see the doctor. All were given a clean bill of heath!” Thank God Grandma never told her about hemorrhoids!

Grandma’s hankies. I have a couple of them somewhere in my things…the things I couldn’t part with. I don’t know that my kids will be interested…or even my grandkids. So, maybe when it’s my time to go, I’ll tie a shiny dime in the corner and go looking for Grandma. 

❤️

“Remember this: Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows generously will also reap generously. Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work. As it is written: “They have freely scattered their gifts to the poor; their righteousness endures forever.””    2 Corinthians 9:6-9 NIV