We grew up in the country where we attended a little white church. We attended on Sunday morning, often on Sunday evening and on what we called “protractive’ meeetings, better known now as revivals. The term protractive referred to extended or drawn out, thus the name related to the revival meetings which sometimes lasted as long as two weeks.
During these times, Daddy would let us come in early from the fieldwork in order to get ready for the “tractive” meetings, as they were called. As I remember, my main thing to get ready was to polish my shoes, usually white sandals. We would have visiting preachers that the adults were anxious to hear. Not that they didn’t go to hear their own pastors, it was just always interesting to hear others.
We got to church, which was not air conditiioned, and made sure all the windows were opened to create a breeze. That, and cardboard fans, provided by the funeral home, or politicians, was the only cooling system we had.
During our regular Sundays, if it was extremely warm, our teachers would take us outside to sit on the steps for our classes.
After quite some time it was decided the building needed to be replaced and updated so plans were made for a new brick one. Work was soon begun on it and after many years the little while church was no longer in place. During the building process, the congregation continued to manage its services on site.
At some point along the way , as a teenager, I was teaching the Primary Sunday School Class. I tried to add activities to make it more interesting for the youngsters. We planned a picnic lunch and since there were no shade trees, we spread our lunch in the shade of the building on the extra building blocks. A few parents joined us and we all enjoyed the outing.
Later, there were several young married ladies and we began to assume some of the duties. One took on the task of preparing and printing the weekly bulletin. As I had just begun writing and being published, I submitted a bit of poetry which was added to the back of the bulletin each week.
As the years rocked on, some of us kept volunteering for other activities. Our pastor’s wife wanted to present a short play, following a study of Corrie Ten Boom’s life. A friend took the leading role and I was assigned the role of her mother. We made our costumes and that night had our makeup done. I needed facial wrinkles and gray hair to look the part. We had fun and it was a hit, (Especially since it was something new for our church.)
Later, it was decided that the church need more rooms. so an addition was made, consisting of a kitchen and fellowship room where the congregation enjoyed many get togethers , from pot-luck meals to banquets for the youth and wedding receptions for ones who grew up in the church. An additional upgrade has since been made as it still serves its people of the community.
The little white church served it’s purpose as it gave birth to many committed Christians, some of whom continue to serve Him in the larger, newly-designed facility.
Fannie Moore lives in Shongaloo.