Sometimes I Miss It

Do you ever think back to a certain time in your life and wonder how the years could have gone by so quickly? This Sunday, I’m thinking back probably fifty years or so. Now, for you young’uns out there, that’s ancient times! Mom and I would be going to a small brown brick church in Tahlequah and we’d know just about everybody there. The preacher was a friend of ours.

I’d sit down at the piano and Lola at the organ, or vice-versa. The choir would assemble on the stage (choir loft sounds too high-falutin’). The song leader would tell us to open our hymnals to Shall We Gather at the River or Heavenly Sunlight or perhaps Showers of Blessing.

Likely as not, there’d be a “special” or two and the soloist would glance at Lola or me and say, “Could you lower that a notch?” Well, on the spur of the moment, with no previous warning, that took some courage but hey! we 1940s model musicians were up to it. So, a hymn in the Key of C would be sung and played in the Key of B flat and we were off. It sounded pretty good too.

Then we’d hear a rip-roaring sermon and at the end, there’d always be an invitation. While heads were bowed, Lola and I would tip-toe to piano and organ and play softly until the Amen. Then, the congregation would sing and there’d be a person or more than one come to the mourner’s bench at the front, kneel, and pray for whatever need was on their hearts.

Anyway, then the final song and off we’d troop, talking (we Baptists are notorious talkers) shake the pastor’s hand at the door, and go home for a dinner of roast with all the trimmings.

Yes, I remember those days and there are times that I really miss them all.