I wouldn’t trade my life experiences for anyone’s. I feel that I have had the richest heritage a girl could ever have. I was blessed with an amazing and talented family. My parents were well rounded and taught us to appreciate many genres of music. We were taught impeccable manners and were reminded with a reprimand, or if company was present, with a kick or pinch under the table if we forgot our manners. But, when it came to church, we could get so tickled that we couldn’t stop laughing to save our souls!
Daddy was the pastor of several little country churches. He got pretty long winded with his sermons and my sisters and I would sneak toys in our purses to play with in church to keep us occupied. Mother didn’t say too much as long as we were quiet and didn’t squirm around too much. One time, before my dad became a preacher, I was so bored in church that I begged Daddy to take me out and whip me just so I could get out of church. Another sister did the same and waved bye to the whole congregation on the way out the door.
It was a lovely Spring day at the little country church. There was no air conditioning or fans in the church so the windows were raised to let in the cool breeze. Most of us spent more time looking out of the windows than we did listening to what the preacher was saying. It was a beautiful view. The church sat in a field and had a fence around it that encased a cow pasture. The cows grazed in the field as we sang songs like “Bringing In The Sheaves” and “Shall We Gather At The River”.
There was a family who were members of this church. The mother and sisters thought they could sing, but believe you me, they couldn’t! This Sunday morning, they had asked Dad if they could sing a song and he agreed to let them. He knew better!
They started to belt out that song, each trying to sing louder than the other one. We were trying to hold it together and be good. My older sister was playing the piano or organ, I forget which, and she was really struggling. We had learned not to look at each other at times like these, because by nature we are gigglers. We were doing pretty good until the trio got uninvited accompaniment. The cows had wandered over toward the church windows and had joined the singing trio with their mooing. The trio wasn’t phased at all! After all, it was their cows, so maybe they were used to it, but we weren’t.
It was just too much to handle! My mother turned red and she was shaking the pew trying not to laugh, which just gave us free reign! Every time we would let out a snicker, she would smack or pinch us on the leg and shake her head no, all the while grinning her own self. There’s nothing worse than getting tickled in church and not being able to laugh out loud.
The music turned to moosic that day and we got raw hide when we got home!