A Good Book May Stay With You, But ‘The Good Book’ Never Leaves.
Childhood memories of Sundays.
In our family, the kids walked to Sunday school at 10 am, and then my parents would be at church at 11 am. The church service was finished just after noon, and we all went home together for lunch.
Even though we lived just two blocks from our church, my parents would drive. Mostly I remember the big 1956 Chevy. Going home, Dad was at the wheel, mum sat beside him, and we four kids sat in the back. Lots of room, no crowding, and no seatbelts.
Lunch was a quick affair. We had friends to find and places to bike. So a sandwich and glass of milk and off we went.
But dinner. Dinner was worth the wait. We ate at 6 pm. By early afternoon we were all home. We knew the drill.
Dad’s Stories
“Alright, you guys, out of my kitchen. Go to your father.” We all knew what that meant. Dad was lying on their big bed. Funny, but that bed was just a double bed. We thought it was enormous. My mum and dad slept in that bed for 42 years of marriage.
Sometimes I feel crowded in my King size bed with just my husband in it. But there was plenty of room for dad and the four of us to gather and let him tell us stories while mum got dinner ready.
