Every year, on the fourth Sunday in August, the little country church my family attended while I was growing up has a Homecoming.
It’s not like it used to be when we were little. Back then, Homecoming was an all-day affair, with Sunday School and Church services in the morning, followed by one of the most unbelievable potluck dinners you’ve ever seen, spread out on tables on the side lawn (you know church ladies can cook!), then followed by an afternoon service with guests from neighboring country churches coming to eat, sing, and fellowship with our little congregation.
These days, the church stands empty 364 days a year, but we still have a small Homecoming service on the fourth Sunday in August. All the folks who grew up in and around this church that are still able, show up. So many of the congregation that was attending when we were small have passed on, so I’m glad that there are even a few that still attend. This year, we had 27 in attendance. We lost one member right after last year’s Homecoming, so it was sad to not have him and his family there any more. And my cousin that used to do the bookkeeping for the church was unable to attend this year — we missed her, too.
The building is still holding up quite well. My sister and my dad take care of it pretty good. The bathrooms are old-fashioned outhouses out back — yes, the ones with the wooden benches with holes in them! My dad was really proud of himself for getting them cleaned out for this year’s Homecoming. They get lots of wasp nests in them!
It looks like the sign could be repainted. I can’t even count how many times that sign has been replaced over the years!
Ron Smith and his wife, Janet, always host the event for us. Ron leads the service and the singing, and Janet (in the middle), and Debbie on the guitar, perform special numbers for us every year. Without them, I don’t think Homecoming would be much of an event.
There’s a piano, but we can’t use it because it’s so out of tune, and we don’t pay to have it tuned, because the humidity would only make it unusable again right away, and since we only meet once a year, we just don’t bother.
Jerry and Margie, sisters from the area, attend just about every year. Their parents used to be members here, and I have such fond memories of all of them. (They’re quilters, too!) That’s my Daddy in the background that they were talking to.
And this lady right here . . . this dear, dear woman . . . Mary Ann Teter Jenkins . . . SHE is the lady that introduced my parents to each other, way back on December 11, 1951.
If not for her, I would probably not be sitting here writing all this! Isn’t that a crazy thought?
My sister and I asked her how she’s getting along, and she answered: “I ain’t worth a shit these days!” Oh, how I love her! Haha!
So Homecoming is once again over, until the fourth Sunday in August next year. I know we can’t go back to having it like it was in the “good ol’ days”, but I’m glad that we’re still having it at all. The little country churches are going by the wayside, so it’s always good to see one that is still being kept up and used, even if only once a year.
The Life of Hazel Ilene 