For all practical reasons, I suppose it was time to let the old building to go. Not much to look at and possibly even a hazard, it no longer served any arguably good purpose.
Unused for years and dilapidated beyond repair, it had clearly outlived its usefulness. The roof sagged, windows were broken and screens had rotted. The paint had faded from the lapped-board siding so that it barely resembled the little white church we attended when I was a kid.
A step inside the warped and weathered front door showed the rustic wooden benches rested on uneven floors that slanted toward the room’s edges where the foundation had settled.The wood stove that warmed the place during our wintertime gatherings had been removed, leaving the rusty stove pipe hanging down from a hole in the center of the pineboard ceiling.
Even the old upright piano, unattended for many years was a mess. It was falling apart and many of the keys produced no sound.
Time and the elements had taken their toll. Nothing was left of the place, really, except sentimental value, and that is exactly what made it hard to let go.
Word-of-mouth history says that building, the oneroom school house / community building was the idea of my grandfather. He felt strongly that that it was needed by the community - enough so that he donated the land on which it was built and joined with other men in the area to see to its construction.
Many years later - and this part I can remember - a tiny vestibule and steeple were added to convert it to a church building. Two small rooms were also added in the back to serve as Sunday school classrooms. I recall that we had church there on Sundays for several years.
We kids sat around a small wooden table someone had made for us to use in our classroom. A box full of crayons sat in the center of the table. On the box someone had scribbled “God is Love” with one of the crayons. I read it over and over and tried to wrap my head around that idea.
Sometimes we also met for special events there, like gospel singings, baby showers and, occasionally, old-time revivals.
When electricity came through the area in the mid 1960s, two bare light bulbs were mounted on the ceiling of the old church, one directly over the spot where the podium sat near the front of the room.
Watching the moths dart around the light above the preacher’s head added another element to the summer-night sermons. My older brother says he remembers a moth once getting in the preacher’s mouth. I don’t remember that, but I can see it happening.
My favorite memories are the homespun Christmas plays we had in that old building. The ladies in our very small congregation hung sheets for stage curtains, and we kids memorized our lines and performed our version of the best Christmas story ever told. I never got to be one of the main characters, but once I recited a poem and another time my cousin Brenda and I sang “Away in the Manger” all by ourselves.
My aunt and uncle passed out bags of candy and fruit to all the kids. Sometimes there were more candy bags than kids, and we got a second one. Life was good!
Yes the shabby old building was worn out and weary, but it had served us well. In fact, in some ways it still fulfilled a purpose - as the faithful keeper of many memories. Theyawaited me the time or two I stopped by each year to look around and revisit a bit of my childhood. I understand that it was time for it to go, but I will miss it. I took for granted that it would always be there.
As I sat down to write this column, it occurred to me that it was exactly one year ago that my first column appeared in the newspaper. In the beginning, I honestly never imagined that I would be able to write something once a week for a wholeyear that would make it to print. And you, dear readers, have been kind and encouraging along the way - maybe in some cases because you listened closely when your mother said that thing about keeping your mouth shut if your couldn’t find something good to say. In any case, I am grateful.
Annette Rowe is a freelance writer and a speech pathologist for the Siloam Springs School District. She may be reached by e-mail at [email protected].
Opinion, Pages 5 on 03/10/2010