Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Pastor (11/30/06)
TITLE: Here We Go Moving Again
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There are so many really neat things about growing up in a pastor’s house that often get clouded over by a lot of negative things. As a child, we moved around a lot, about every three years for a while. In an upstate New York community we had the most fantastic house for a kid.
This house had two kitchens - an old one with set tubs and an ice box in the shed off the old kitchen, and then the new kitchen where we sat and ate our meals. I remember putting the sign for the ice man in the front window every couple of days.
This marvelous house had a front and back staircase. I remember the back stair case you could walk up without touching the stairs because the walls were so close together we literally climbed the walls! The front stair case had a exquisite banister - the best for sliding I ever saw.
I didn’t use it too often because to get to it was kind of scary. That whole second floor was scary. The first room I was given was on the side near the driveway and this big old tree. With the street lights shining through the shades, and the wind blowing, my overly active imagination scared the living daylights out of me. I also had an access to the attic in my room and would spend many nights with my flashlight taking dead aim on that closed open space that lowered stairs to the floor of my room. When I couldn’t take it any longer, I was given a huge room in the front of the house. A doorway in that room went to the hallway where the front stair case was, a positive and a negative. With a brother three years older who delighted in taunting me as often as he could, that staircase turned out to be one very frightening place. Of course, there were nights when he would make all sorts of noises and I would lay in bed totally petrified. But during the daytime when he was in school and I wasn’t, during nap times I had my heart’s delight in sliding down that banister!
In a town in Connecticut we were the most privileged of all at Christmas time. So many people would give gifts of money to my brother and myself, we each had quite a pile of bills to count. We felt so rich. We had so much fun there. I loved my big beautiful bedroom, the fireplace in the living room, the new electric stove, and the pantry. The pantry was such a comfortable place. It was alongside the kitchen, a narrow room lined with cabinets and drawers with a walkway through from the kitchen to the dining room. There was a small part of the pantry with free wall space and that’s where my slate board went. I used to teach math to anyone I could get my hands on.
We spent seven years there. It was the best time in my life, ages 7 to 14. There were so many kind people. Those were the days we walked home from school for lunch. If my parents couldn’t be there, a marvelous German lady around the corner opened up her house for us. If she was busy, we had other places in the neighborhood to go. We were surrounded by helpful, happy folks.
That church built an addition and in the process we had a great time checking out the day’s work, climbing where we shouldn’t have but enjoying the thrill of it all. Then there was the day the church’s bell came out of the steeple. It was mighty heavy and in need of cleaning. I can remember ringing the bell and almost, like in the cartoons, being lifted off the floor.
Pastors met many people, helped many, and often were hurt by many. But this has been fun, remembering the best things instead of the awful.
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