Memories

Sunday Best

Sundays were the best

We put on our Sunday best

Clutching our Bibles

The day was packed, with activities and outings.

We knew exactly what was expected of us. This made

It easy. With our pastel colored, frilly satin dresses already

selected for us, (Ros and I always wore the same clothes),

this part was set.

Sunday school was not the best. It was tedious, nothing made it exciting.
Could they not make the Bible stories more dramatic? The teachers seemed
infuriated - angry teaching the word or with us? I am sure they were volunteering
and always wondered why  most of them were unfriendly. They could have chosen
other roles with the many callings of church life. They made their lives and ours so drab.
We still had to be there, in our household it was mandatory.

I now realize the possibilities. In my childlike way I knew how it could be different
but was never daring enough to suggest it. The ‘big church’ as we called it lasted
forever. Even when we were allowed out, we still had to wait.

We took advantage of this time to enjoy our church friends and had the opportunity
to play with our christian brothers and sisters. After all, we had all endured a plate
of goodies forced down us. That is why, armed with ‘goodness and mercy’, we shuffled
through the games we had stored in our memory and played one after the other.
Sundays had to be the best.

Just as our lively, sweaty bodies got into the swing of our sometimes newly concocted
games, Daddy and Mama appeared, full of grace. It was time to go home. That was a
welcome feeling as we were looking forward to another Sunday best. A piping hot
sumptuous, stodgy meal that would have been prepared and waiting for us.