Hanky club

Having had a change in my status as a local pastor of a small Methodist church, I’ve had to find a new place to worship. Learning to sit in a pew and worshipping at a new church has been a challenge. I’ve visited churches of many varieties. The churches with high liturgical practices such as Roman Catholic, Orthodox, Episcopalian, and some Lutherans have set predictable patterns and rituals. I may be confused, but the faithful, know when to stand, when to sit, when to bow, and when to kneel. If the church has kneelers, it give the less faithful or visitor a chance to prepare to kneel. It’s not hard for such worshipers to visit another parish. My family is ecumenical, and I recently visited an orthodox church with our youngest daughter. I discovered they stand most of the time. The devout seemed to know a special cue and they’d drop to the floor and just as quickly stood. By the time I considered kneeling they were up again. It was quite an interesting experience. At one point, the priest was throwing rose petals and I got hit in the head with one. All my experiences in different houses of worship have enriched me and taught me much about culture. I suppose I’m considered in the broadest sense, an Evangelical protestant. In general, there is a liturgy to the service. But each has its own unique style of worship you will find. Some sit stoically. Some are somewhat liturgical with robed children lighting candles and the clergy robed. Some sing enthusiastically. Others barely open their mouths. Some clap their hands, some dance, or run, and many raise their hands in worship. The collection of the offering can come early or late in a service. It’s like the proverbial box of chocolates, you never know what you are going to get. Having served in a church as Pastor, I certainly knew exactly what to do and when to do it at that church. Now I was in a new place. No longer a pastor. Just a person in the pew. I knew a handful of people and I didn’t know them well. But I had found “my pew.” My pew was in the process of a make-over. The section I sat in was closed. I moved to what seemed like foreign territory and once again felt uncomfortable. A woman named Lucille asked if she could sit with me. She lives in an assisted living and is ten years older. Lucille is a very pleasant friendly woman who had spoken to me a time or two. She was now seated on my right side. Soon, some women also in her age group filled in on the other side and gave me the “who are you?” look. I smiled. Now I was locked in place surrounded the matriarchs of the church. The woman closest to me on the left introduced herself, and two other women. The one in the middle said, “and of course you know Bettye.” “No, sorry I don’t know Bettye” She was shocked. Her look said, “How could you come to this church and not know Bettye?” I smiled again. Soon I was asked “how long have you been coming here?” I answered about six months. Their facial expressions and body language were hard to read. But we were all polite. I had a birthday coming soon and thought, okay, now I’ve made the “old lady” row at the church. Part of me wanted to scream “I AM NOT THAT OLD.” But of course, the truth is, I am. That afternoon I got a phone call from Lucille. She had asked for my phone number and was following up. She wanted to orient me to the church’s activities for the older adults. She told me all about the Young at Heart group. I cringed. Oh, I knew about this group. They were the old people who went out to eat together once a month. I sighed. Inwardly I said, I’m not ready for this. I am not that old. Afterall, I was a director of a Senior Center for years. I should be planning these things for old people not going to them. She told me that they used to take overnight trips – I thought, yes, another old person activity. I’m still raising a teenager and have a husband who works full time. I’m not ready for the senior trips. She continued, “On the first Sunday of the month we go to Ann’s house. Ann can’t get out to church anymore and a group of us bring food to her house and spent the afternoon. We have so much fun! Can you come?” I hated to say no, so I said oh, that’s nice. The first Sunday was the Sunday before my birthday. It wasn’t a “big birthday” and at this point birthdays just mean I’m getting old. We made family plans for that day. I knew I’d be asked at church and my plan was to say ‘oh, my family wants to take me out for my birthday.’ I was sure that would be sufficient. I found my seat in my pew. But Bettye found me. She said, “Why are you over here? Don’t you want to come sit with us?” I smiled and said, “Oh I’m fine here.” Then she asked me a few questions to confirm the information that another person told her about me. Yes, they’d been talking about me. Nothing bad, but it is interesting to know that you are the subject of discussion. The conversation switched to going to Ann’s house for lunch after church. I apologized and explained that my family had arranged something after church for my birthday. Bettye scowled. She informed me “We were planning to honor you for your birthday too.” I was shocked. How did they know? Then I remembered I had mentioned it to ONE of the women. Word had spread. Bettye persisted. “Can’t you ask your family to wait?” After serious negotiations, I agreed to follow her and meet a few of the other woman. I would not stay and eat. She was happy. After the last amen, I followed her to Ann’s house. My granddaughter was with me and opted to stay in the car. I went inside and was instantly greeted by ten women. Some I had seen before, a few I hadn’t. The woman who hosted us was healthier than I had thought. She greeted me with a smile. Soon all eyes were on me. All the women were named. I was presented with a small Birthday gift and two cards. I thanked them. Some mentioned that I had written a book. I sold one. Four others indicated they wanted one. Then they sang Happy Birthday to me. It was sweet. Even though I still didn’t want to be part of the old lady group, I could see that it might be nice…eventually. I graciously left clutching my cards and present. As soon as I got to my vehicle, I opened the gift. I laughed until the tears ran down my face. No, it wasn’t a gag gift. So why did I laugh? Inside a box were three machine embroidered white handkerchiefs neatly arranged in a box that looked 40 years old. Hankies, relics of another era. One I lived through. So, I was now a member of the old lady hankie group! Should I put it under my sleeve to have it handy? My granddaughter didn’t know what they were for, but she thought they were very pretty. And they are. It’s hard to go to a new church. It’s hard to find your place. But I have a place now. And the beautiful woman in the old lady hankie group have sort of won my heart. I helped with the bazaar at the church and saw these old ladies working hard – they all wave at me and ask me about coming to Young At Heart. I think I’ll pass, but the love and acceptance these women have showed me reminded me that love comes at all ages and that acceptance is a gift. The following Sunday, I went to “my pew.” I still don’t want to sit in the pew with the old ladies. A woman who wasn’t at the luncheon came after me – she was all excited. She had a card and another gift. This time it was a small devotional book. On the card, she wished me well, told me she loved me, and wish me the best. Sometimes it is the little things.