My grandmother believed in two
things: The Lord Jesus, and Oral Roberts. Whatever Oral said was law. If Oral
was preaching from the pulpit about his desperate need for money, Nanason would
accept the challenge and send in her dollars.
In return for her generosity she
would get some small trinket as a token of Orals appreciation. After we watched
Oral every Sunday morning, we would head to church…
That previous Easter, the bunny
had given me a slinky. I loved my slinky. I took it everywhere. It even took
the journey to Easley that summer. It was the rare occasion that both my
parents dropped us off, my mother was with us, the next day they were leaving
to go back to
Florida.
We were dressed in our best, as
we walked through the sacred doors of the
Easley Wesleyan
Methodist Church. I remember the church quiet well, it was red brick and sat on the opposing hill across from Arial mill hill. You felt instant holiness the second you walked through the doors.
Nanason introduced us to all her friends,she proudly showed off her oldest son and his family. She told them all that we kids would be spending the summer and I was invited to the vacation bible school the church was offering.
I held my white wicker purse, and inside I had strategically hidden slinky. We
said our prayers, and sang the songs, then all settled in to the pews to hear a
fire and brimstone message from the pulpit.
When I saw Papa start to nod off,
and my sister drawing, I took out slinky. First I was quiet; I bounced it up
and down, and held it in my little hand. But then slinky got a mind of its own,
and stretched itself out, I accidently let go and the darn slinky lunged in to
the back of the little ole blue haired lady sitting in front me. My mother was mortified, her eyes got big and
she pursed her lips. Then she shook her head- “Oh lord”! I thought-not the head
shaking! Fortunately she was not seated next to me.
My sister and Nanason started to
giggle, my dad had to reach out and untangle slinky from Blue haired lady’s
head. He whispered his deepest apologies. My cousin Terri sat there and with
teeth gritted said “I told her not to bring it”. My mother stretched out her hand, and dad
gave her my slinky. I sat there the rest of the sermon with hands in my lap,
thinking about slinky; I feared I would be forever doomed for disrupting the
service. But, Nanason in her way made things better-she gave me gum.
I did manage to get slinky back from my
mother, and I sat on the big porch the rest of that day playing with slinky not realizing that my slinky episode would again like so many of my childhood adventures, become family folklore...
---To be Continued
