“In The Garden”

December 8, 2013

It’s December and a strange time to title a post “In The Garden,” but that’s where I was today:  in the garden of my childhood.  As we sang the old hymn by that name today at a sort-of-cousin’s funeral at the church where my Aunt Sara played the organ for so many years, I traveled instantly back through time.  I was six years old again, singing in the car with my mother and sister as my father drove.  I was a little girl singing in the pew of Kennedyville Methodist Church as my Aunt Hilda played the organ.  It was the same song, then as today, sung the exact same way, with the pauses coming at the exact same places:  “And He walks [pause] with me, And He talks [pause] with me….” It was my sister who sat beside me today in the pew, just as she’d sat beside me when we were young.  My cousin, his wife, and their grown son – more of my family – sat in front of me.  The nurse I used to sing duets with sat behind me, then on the way out, I saw Carol filing out also, just a few people back from me, after the service.  All of them knew me when I was just a kid. Carol was my dear friend who loved me in that same church when I was just 24 years old, when I knew nothing but thought I knew everything.  So today when we all knew some of the same things and some of the same people, in that same place, singing that same song in that same way, it was a gift.  Merry Christmas to me.  Thank you, Lord.

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