My memories of church have an unhappy beginning. I was two years old. We had just moved 2000 miles by train from my birthplace in New Brunswick, Canada, to Milton, WI, my mom’s hometown. That first week after our return Mom dropped me off in the nursery before church, and I was unhappy. Very unhappy. I bawled. We have visited that church many times in my adulthood, and every time I pass that room I am reminded of that traumatic experience.
But things got better. Much better. We spent the next ten years in that church and community, a period I look back on with great fondness and appreciation.
They say “It takes a village,” and this village — and especially this church — took that seriously. The adults, from the young ones of my parents’ generation to the most elderly, paid attention to us kids and cared for us. It felt like we had a large extended family.
It wasn’t something I appreciated at the time, of course. I assumed that life for kids everywhere was the same as it was for me. But as I grew older I began to understand what a remarkable group of people they were who had embraced us. I have checked with other “kids” from that time, and now, almost six decades later, they too appreciate the support they received from that community of people.
As the years passed I would return to that church and be greeted warmly by those good people, who comprised, sadly but inevitably, an ever smaller group. Today there are but two left —Lucille is 96, and Peg is 101 — but they remember me and still care about me.
I have the greatest appreciation for the kindness and support of the folks in that church. I have never met a better group of people.
When I think back on that formative decade in my life I am reminded that how we interact with the young people in our church can have a lasting impact on their lives. Actions that may seem little to us — the kindnesses, the moments of conversation, the example we set — can make a difference to them that we cannot anticipate.
I was fortunate. I had good parents who raised my four brothers and me. And I had the church family, who helped raise me, too. May we do the same for the kids in our church.
- NL
- NL
Thank you for these thoughts, Norm. It's true that we must make our church a place where our kids can feel at home and cared for. I hope we do a good job with that, and to me it seems like we do!
ReplyDeleteNice article, Norm. I remember certain words said to me by adults when I was a kid, words that made a big impression on me, gave me hope and inspiration through awkward stages in life... I sometimes wonder if those adults had any clue that their words sunk in so deep, or if they were just casual offhand comments made by distracted multi-tasking adults.... in any case, I am thankful for what I took from them.
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