I Grew Up Brown County

The church is small and white and is built into the side of a hill.

The pews are dark red and are dotted with crocheted throws, old Bibles, and baby toys.

The windows face just south enough to let a blinding amount of sun shine through during the Sunday sermon in late spring and early fall.

We have pitch-ins, baby showers, graduation parties, and Vacation Bible School in the shelter house that stands behind the church, up the hill, in front of the cemetery.

Every week, the minster asks if anyone has a song? Sister Mary reads us poems and excerpts and sings songs to us that we’ve never heard, and she doesn’t have the accompanying music, so it’s a capella, off-key, and amazing. Uncle Harry sings “Near the Cross” often, and we all sing along to his particular melody -- “til my rap-tured soul shall find rest bee-yond the ri-ver.”

We are having a foot-washing. Clyde and Flo are here. They are 100 years old if they are a day, and still as dapper as can be. Clyde, in his bomber jacket, and Flo sporting sassy lipstick and sassier spirit. For the foot-washing, we separate. Men to one room. Women to another. As the ladies chatter, and we nervously yet enthusiastically participate in this age-old tradition, Flo tells us how it is.

“Isn’t it just a like a man to spring this on a person? Men, they don’t think about some things. Like a woman wears pantyhose to church. When you get to be my age, you can’t just pull ‘em off so easily to do things like this. You’d think they would warn you. I'll just do it anyway, right through the stockings. Men, they just don’t think about some things.”

We are having a yard sale out front to raise money for a youth trip, or camp, or VBS. We start early. Fortunately, breakfast tastes even better when you eat it at church.

Sister Louise can’t have any sugar, but she loves coffee. It is in that moment that I learn that coffee doesn’t have sugar in it. It had never occurred to me. Occasionally, when I’m adding sugar to my coffee, I’ll remember that moment of clarity and see Sister Louise smiling at me.

We put on Christmas programs, and everyone who wants to gets a chance to sing. No auditions, and no one is left out here. We gather for weekly Youth Group, and giggle about things that are new to our developing bodies and minds.

We form bonds. We are a family. Nothing designates where my family ends and your family begins. We are all one.