July 20, 2004
"Church Bells"
by Karin McClune

A group of us walked to town to attend a Sunday sevice of the Episcopal Church. We were slightly early, and a crowd began to gather around us as we snapped and showed digital photos. We probably had dirtier feet and were less kempt than most of the parishoners, but were accepted unconditionally into the flock nevertheless. When the church filled, it was from the front. Children wiggled their backsides between others to be with friends.They were darling, of course. Many a tiny boy and girl arrived carrying a tinier one on the hip.

Spontaneousl singing began and the harmonies floated to the corrugated roof and around the spacious hall, whose moveable pews suggested multi-purpose. Two young girls gave nervous readings into their prayer books as girls everywhere would do. Someone a bit like a master of ceremonies came to the plastic flower vased altar to announce each next event. A man in a suit sat down next to us and sang a lonely tenor part lloudly enough to hold his own. Pulpit time, he gave a sermon which we were told concerned anger. It must have worked. We haven't heard a voice raised in anger at any time since our arrival. Even the obviously influential lady who shushed the kids and made them stop staring at us, did so sternly but kindly. (Kids are the same everywhere. They snicker if you cross your eyes. They look at you with wrinkle-nosed curiosity if you pull your right earlobe and your tongue shoots to the left and vice versa). They r esponded to the lady respectfully and obediently and turned around---for a bit.

One can only conjecture about the collection.A girl with a notebook came around collecting so we gave her a bunch of money and signed our names. But that was not that. Then a green velvet bowl-like container was place on the altar and folks filed up from one side and dropped in an offering. It was then moved to the other side for the other side of the room. But that was not that. A red bowl now collected money in the same way. We hastily borrowed from our guide and followed the leader. .

When we heard the Doxology (the only familiar tune) we expected the service was over. But the M.C. appeared with a cabbage. One of our group yelled out "cabbage" which she apparently almost bought. The food auction had begun. There were bananas, cucumbers, and little fried breads proferred on a glass plate 3 at a time. Even some doilies were sold. At the conclusion, many people greeted us with handshakes and welcomes and an endless supply of smiles. to die for. More photos, more expressions of surprise at digital technology, and a sweet, pure speech from the pastor who thanked us for coming and apologized for not speaking English.We were the embarassed ones who can't express what a moving, educational and rewarding visit we had with the nicest, most welcoming people on earth. Not to mention our sense of wonder.