Take note

It wasn’t that I was in search of the past…it just slipped up on me. I’m not sure if it was the birdsong filling my walk, or the breeze cooling my steps, but I think what triggered my revelry was the floating fragrance of tree blossoms. Suddenly I was a child with shiny shoes, ruffled socks, a fussy dress, and a draw string purse, on my way to Sunday School. The church building was small with peeling paint and a tattered bell tower. Inside, children filed past wooden pews, into tiny classrooms full of folding chairs and flannel boards. Soon, we children, wide-eyed with wonder, watched cutout animals traipse up the ramp onto a fuzzy ark. The best was when Jonah would go head first into the mouth of the whale. Oh, and I loved when Jesus would love on the children.