I don’t know what it was, but I wasn’t a fan of going to church when I was little. I guess I thought everything in life should have aspects of fun, and going to church was not fun. Except for the Christmas play. We had a pretty big production one year and I had a semi-big part. I learned my lines and I was ready. No stage fright coming from me. And I was pretty young.
The play went off without a hitch. Well, until some people in the play took too much time delivering their lines. That’s when Queen of the Acting World decided to say their lines if there was even a slight hesitation. Yes, that’s right. I learned everyone’s lines. If you snooze, you lose, people. Not only did I deliver their lines if they didn’t live up to my expectations, I ran over and stood by the person who was supposed to say the line and then I said their line. I was on top of things. So, yeah, the Christmas play was fun. For me. I didn’t have very many church friends for awhile after that.
My dad was a Sunday school teacher, so most Sundays when we were very young, we went to Sunday school and then headed next door to Isaly’s for breakfast. Since I was hyper and my sister had temper tantrums every other minute, it really wasn’t a good idea for the Mendenhall family to stay for church. So, for a while, we were Christmas and Easter Christians.
One Easter Sunday, my mother informed us that she wanted us to sit up front. When we did go to church, we sat in the back in case we had to make a fast exit. I usually behaved myself in church. I didn’t listen, but I had paper and a pencil, so I drew or wrote notes to my brother. I was pretty excited that we were going to sit in front. Little did I know.
My mom dressed us funny. Even for the 60′s. We just looked stupid. She made most of our clothes and so Cheryl and I had on the same dress. I still remember what it looked like. It was a sleeveless shift, white background with green vines or something. She pinned a frickin fake rose on the middle of the dress, about right where my sternum would be. She never combed out my hair when she rolled it. She just took out the curlers and away I went. I had white anklets on to match my scuffed-up shiny, white shoes. I looked like a reject. So, off we went to Easter service.
After Sunday school, we headed upstairs and sat in the first row. We walked down the row and I sat next to Cheryl on one side and David on the other. That right there was a big error in judgement on my mom’s part. But, it was Easter Sunday, and we were feeling it. The morning music began, the choir came down the aisle singing, and Reverend Harold was behind them. Well, sort of.
He was dressed in his robe, and was carrying his Bible, but the choir really should have picked a slow song to come in on. Like, a slow motion, Bringing in the Sheaves or something. The only reason I would suggest that song is because we sang, “Bringing in the Sheep” and thought we were so funny. Reverend Harold was old. Like Saturday Night Live, let’s make a sketch out of this, old.Actually, I think he had a stroke, but I will just say it was because he was so very old.
I really think the choir repeated the song more than they were supposed to. He got up to speak, and I think he may have fallen asleep in the middle of his opening monologue. That’s when Cheryl decided to speak. Loud enough for the whole church to hear.”Mommy, what’s wrong with that man?” She stood up on the pew and tried to get over to my mom like Reverend Harold scared her. “Shhhhh”, my mom replied. Cheryl sat back down, and decided to talk to me instead. Out loud. “Vickie, look.” She took her shoe off and wiggled her big toe through a hole in her sock. “Look. I have a hole in my sock.” I don’t know why I found that funny, but I started silent laughing. She sat there wiggling that damn toe. There’s nothing worse than needing to laugh at the wrong time..It was belly shake quiet laugh time. Cheryl wanted to share her amusing find. “Mommy, look, I have a hole in my sock.” “Shhhhhhhh….”
Well, Reverend Harold shifted himself to look at the noise we were making in the front row. Cheryl was talking about the hole in her sock, and I was laughing. All of a sudden, there was a crash. Reverend Harold had knocked over an Easter lily that was in a big pot on a ledge. It came crashing down right in front of us and we all burst out laughing. Well, my mom’s mouth had dropped open. I consider that at least a smile.
And….no…one…else…made….a…sound…
We made our exit in the middle of church, once again. Well, except this time, we left something behind. It was quiet on the drive home. My mom was soo mad at us for laughing. She didn’t say a word all the way home. But, then, Cheryl spoke again.
“Look. I only have one shoe.”
