Yesterday I got a call early in the morning from my daughter-in-law. She said the women of the church where my granddaughter Paige attends preschool were hosting a hotdog lunch for the children and their parents. It was a fundraiser to rebuild a wall at the school that got attacked by termites last year. The wall is repaired but funds are needed to pay for the work.
Paige and I were the first in the fellowship hall and were greeted by seven women, all my age or ten years older. On the counter was an old-fashioned electric steamer filled with cooked hotdogs inside buns, staying warm and ready for hungry kids. On the stove was a pot of bubbling hotdog chili.
We gave the first woman our $6 and while another woman served our hotdog, Paige perused the variety of condiments the women had placed in front our hungry eyes: pickle relish, coleslaw, sauerkraut, chopped onions, mustard and ketchup.
I asked Paige what she wanted and she said, “Mimi, please put the ketchup on first with little squiggles and then shadow them with the mustard.” Her words; I promise. “Shadow them?” I asked. And she walked me through the squiggles just to make sure I got it right. After making her hot dog I spread the mustard on mine and then asked for a little chili.
We had a choice of multi-colored Goldfish, pretzels, or waffle potato chips and Paige said she wanted one of each. I said pick one and I’ll pick another and we’ll share. She got the Goldfish and I picked the chips. We had a choice of soda to drink but Paige is a water drinker and so am I so we passed on the sodas and I filled our plastic cups already filled with ice by another woman of the church, with water from the sink. One final choice that came with our meal was a basket filled with snack desserts. We both picked a chocolate cake filled with marshmallow cream. (Paige is not a sweet eater so her dessert came home with me in my purse.)
For a few minutes we remained alone in the fellowship hall with the women. It had been reported in the paper that this church and another Methodist church in Chattanooga were merging because the membership at this church had declined. The preschool, however, a staple and much respected in the Chattanooga area, will remain on the premises and continue to function. But with only 36 active members the church could not keep functioning alone. I asked the women if they were excited about the merger and there was dead silence. I apologized if I asked a bad question and a few laughed and finally one spoke for them all saying it is a good thing although they are sad. It was clear they were doing their best to see the good in the merger and keep a positive attitude. I wished them luck and thanked them for hosting the lunch.
A friend of Paige’s along with her mother, father and little brother joined us at our table. At the end of the meal Paige’s clothes were decorated in yellow/red blotches and her upper lip was yellow. You can’t beat mustard and ketchup oozing out of a good hotdog. Paige loved it so much she asked for a second one so I went back and bought another one which we split. Afterwards we were invited to play on the school’s playground. And by now the small fellowship hall was filled with mothers, fathers, grandparents, little brothers and sisters and children from the preschool all enjoying a happy joy-filled lunch.
Paige and I were the first in the fellowship hall and were greeted by seven women, all my age or ten years older. On the counter was an old-fashioned electric steamer filled with cooked hotdogs inside buns, staying warm and ready for hungry kids. On the stove was a pot of bubbling hotdog chili.
We gave the first woman our $6 and while another woman served our hotdog, Paige perused the variety of condiments the women had placed in front our hungry eyes: pickle relish, coleslaw, sauerkraut, chopped onions, mustard and ketchup.
I asked Paige what she wanted and she said, “Mimi, please put the ketchup on first with little squiggles and then shadow them with the mustard.” Her words; I promise. “Shadow them?” I asked. And she walked me through the squiggles just to make sure I got it right. After making her hot dog I spread the mustard on mine and then asked for a little chili.
We had a choice of multi-colored Goldfish, pretzels, or waffle potato chips and Paige said she wanted one of each. I said pick one and I’ll pick another and we’ll share. She got the Goldfish and I picked the chips. We had a choice of soda to drink but Paige is a water drinker and so am I so we passed on the sodas and I filled our plastic cups already filled with ice by another woman of the church, with water from the sink. One final choice that came with our meal was a basket filled with snack desserts. We both picked a chocolate cake filled with marshmallow cream. (Paige is not a sweet eater so her dessert came home with me in my purse.)
For a few minutes we remained alone in the fellowship hall with the women. It had been reported in the paper that this church and another Methodist church in Chattanooga were merging because the membership at this church had declined. The preschool, however, a staple and much respected in the Chattanooga area, will remain on the premises and continue to function. But with only 36 active members the church could not keep functioning alone. I asked the women if they were excited about the merger and there was dead silence. I apologized if I asked a bad question and a few laughed and finally one spoke for them all saying it is a good thing although they are sad. It was clear they were doing their best to see the good in the merger and keep a positive attitude. I wished them luck and thanked them for hosting the lunch.
A friend of Paige’s along with her mother, father and little brother joined us at our table. At the end of the meal Paige’s clothes were decorated in yellow/red blotches and her upper lip was yellow. You can’t beat mustard and ketchup oozing out of a good hotdog. Paige loved it so much she asked for a second one so I went back and bought another one which we split. Afterwards we were invited to play on the school’s playground. And by now the small fellowship hall was filled with mothers, fathers, grandparents, little brothers and sisters and children from the preschool all enjoying a happy joy-filled lunch.
For the next hour-and-a-half I sat on a bench observing Paige as she played “house” with the same friend that we shared lunch with. Another grandmother sat on one side and told me about her life and her other grandchildren while a new mother sat on the other side of me holding a six week old baby. It was a wonderful opportunity for me to experience joy: joy in stopping long enough to just sit; joy in hearing the stories of these two women who have nothing and yet everything in common; joy in seeing children doing what they do best – play; and joy in sharing this experience with my granddaughter Paige.
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