Sunday in my family was always go to church in the morning, and our family afternoon meal, almost always homecooked fried chicken with all the sides.
I think of those morning church services fondly now. As a child, I had a hard time not getting sleepy during service. I think this was impart that my Mommom was the preacher.
Don't get me wrong, she was an amazing minister. She spoke beautifully, she spoke wisely, and she spoke with the love lighting her eyes and leading her words. I got so sleepy because she was my Mommom.
I didn't name today's post as Off Topic, because it was intended to be about cozy mysteries with people who live simpler lives. Well, I'll start that another Sunday, because, it seems, Mommom wanted to be heard today. And one thing I know for a fact, when Mommom, Reverend Mable V. Erskine talks, you listen.
We hear you, Mommom. We hear you. 🧡
Sweet memories! They can wrap themselves around us to bring those we love near - even when they aren't they to do it.
ReplyDelete2clowns at arkansas dot net
Precious memories, Lisa. Sundays were much the same for me growing up. Church, where my father led the congregation in hymns and prayer (before the minister’s sermon). Then, the best meal of the week (often chicken), after we got home.
ReplyDeleteBlessed Sunday,
Pat T