| Special Memories of Our Old Church |
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Here, on this page, are some memories of our days at our old church. For those who do not know, this place is located in a small village "where everyone knows your name"--to quote a TV theme song. The place is now only open once a month and rather dull. But, back in the old days, it was a hotbed of activity. We hope that all who read it will enjoy some of the amusing events and thoughts which we have experienced. Way back in the old days, we were too poor to have paste in catechism. So, we used Karo Syrup instead. It smelled good BUT when the nun showed the principal our work, our photo book would not come open. Making up for these minor problems were the questions I got to hear being tossed at the nuns. What is circumcision? The nun stammered and replied "the same as baptism." What is heaven like? The nun replied, "you sit and look at God." You should have looked at the nun's face when a cute little girl replied, "I don't want to go there and do that." Of course, the church has had many priests--each special in his own way. One was a nice and good person but you better not ride in his car. While riding with him and other children to get some flower roots for the church, a small kid started slobbering all over the clean windows. Fire flew out of that holy man's eyes as he yelled all of the way to Fairmont for that slobbering heathen to shut up and stop putting snot on his car. The more he yelled, more snotty he got. What a fun trip. The moral is that if you are riding with a priest, don't have a cold. Another enjoyable priest insisted that you only could have silk flowers and white lights on the Christmas Trees. Money went to God so you better not ask questions about the collection. He also came, every year, to bless all the rooms in the house so you better get ready to clean. At times, I've wondered if the purpose was to see if your donations matched your lifestyle. A small man in stature left a big impact with our family. Some loved and respected this man while others really went into a tizzy with him. He was famous for holding his nose and blowing air and other things out of his eyes. (add your own comment here). Uncle Frank could never stand this person. For as long as we could remember, he used a Dutch accent to describe how that man would drive by as Uncle Frank walked. Father would shout and wave his finger "you better hurry--you be late." When Uncle Frank arrived and started dressing to be the altar boy, the priest started Mass, jogged up the aisle, and then proclaimed "WHAT!!??? No altar boy up here?????" One time, my dad and family's dog, Boy, followed them to church and walked in during the homily. He just came in and sat in the back of the church while the family sat up front. From the pulpit, that nice priest said, "This is not a DOG house, Get him OUT." At that point, my dad had to walk down the aisle and escort the dog home. You may notice that this account conflicts with someone else's recollections. This same priest was also famous for lifting the curtain and peeking at who just confessed. In response, my father ducked out of the box and ran around the corner and down the street. The priest was so disappointed that he ran out of the box and onto the porch asking everyone who ran away. This same guy was also a helper. He was famous for the basement construction. To keep from digging too much, he put some dynamite under church. After the boom, the mine superintendent said that we should not leave this crazy priest alone. "A qualified miner should be with him we he ever he goes near the basement." Dust really flew everywhere. I must say, however, that he did paint the basement quite well with his little etchings (they are painted over now). I, myself, start my memories with a Msgr. who told grandmother (when she was President of the Altar Society), "You better have a baseball bat to keep those ladies under control." He was nice, as I remember, and really made grandmother laugh with that comment. I'll never forget a priest who made a surprise visit and told mom that he was a Reagan supporter. That was something that you didn't do and our family had strained relations with him. He also tried to start adult CCD which flopped. You see, no one wanted to be asked a Bible question. I remember my Aunt telling me that it is good for you and all children to memorize the Bible. When I said the class is not for me but for you, she almost fell off of the kitchen chair. Once he also baptized a baby by plunging him naked into a bathtub--for the first and last time. The next Sunday, a 26 year old woman was baptized. Everyone held their breath for a moment. This Reagan supporter was replaced by the first liberal priest we had. He said things that I know would have flipped Rome if word ever got back. The only problem was that he wanted a have a nice—big money church--instead of churches that relied on bingo and Altar Society fund raisers like us. The next priest was young and loved to give eye-opening messages. On one memorable service, he said that Jesus came into someone's house and later, the barren woman became pregnant. Then, Fr. said, "while I can't do the same for you,....." "You should always be kind and giving toward me and other strangers." On the way home, grandmother said, "I don't know why he can't read out of the Bible and leave it at that." One of the more amusing episodes occurred with the moving of a person who had only just started attending church after many years. Once she did start, however, she went to confession every Sunday. She told grandmother that she would say "the only sin I have is that I haven't prayed enough this week." Three months later, she moved decided to move to her children's home out of state. When Fr., heard of her impending move, he insisted that the church throw a going away party. One could write a story on that in itself. Everyone in the church kept saying "who is she?", "why are we doing this?", or "you've got to be kidding--her?" In the mean time, everyone was kissing up to Father by kissing up to her while also blowing their own horns. I'll never forget some woman telling Fr. "People never thank me for the flowers, for the food, or for my kind words. They thank me for the hours I spend with their parents." The whole event was capped off with her farewell speech that could only come out of a Norman Rockwell movie. During another homily, we sort of messed things up for this guy. That summer, we had gone to the State Fair. While there we had witnessed an interesting method of stimulating sheep to move. It involved putting a certain finger in a certain place which made the sheep's eyes bulge and start moving. During Mass, Fr. asked "How do shepards get their sheep to move?" "Do you know?" "It takes this certain touch that Jesus had to move the apostles." Of course, dad and I were beside ourselves and could barely contain our laughter. Then, he said, "We must cultivate that touch so we can move our entire community toward our Heavenly Father." At that point, Dad leaned over and said, "There is going to be a lot of dirty fingers in town." Of course, I started crying and giggling. During the week, everyone called grandmother and asked why we were laughing so much. She told them. When later asked why, she said "I didn't want them to think you were laughing at the Bible." The next Sunday, Fr. started off saying, "have we all cultivated that special touch?" Immediately, the whole church roared with laughter and he asked "what did I say?" I don't think anyone told him the hidden story. The next priest was like a young Andy Griffith. I will never forget his attempts for "bonding". He put everyone--not us--on a bus to a State Park in PA for whitewater rafting. One got a broken arm and Father teased an overweight woman for weeks who pulled her raft down with the tide and couldn't be rescued for quite sometime. The following priest brought church politics to its zenith. The Altar Society questioned. He responded. One time, a lady in the society said, "Father, this is my son." He replied, "Oh, how terrible. He needs a blessing to put up with you." He then poured oil on him. Another time, he was selling a subscription to a newspaper. Another one shouted from the back of the church, "how much?" He responded, "Thank God I never married you." She responded, "Your a selling, I'm a asking." Another memorable moment was when this priest told another society member not to go into the confessional until the walls were fireproofed. A church is made up of many people worshiping together. Naturally, there are going to be some funny moments that will arise from time to time. I hope this gives you some glimpse into just a few of the memories I've had and have heard over the years. jvm |
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