Sunday, 6 March 2016
Sunday memories . . .
I got to thinking yesterday as I was cleaning through the house about Sundays and what they have always meant to me. It seems nowadays that Sunday has just become another day of the week for most people . . . there seem to be more people out shopping than there ever was . . . it used to be a day of rest. Today it seems to be the complete opposite . . . and anyone who's tried to drive through the local trading estate here where I live on a Sunday afternoon could probably attest to that. It's a nightmare . . . full stop.
Sundays when I was growing up were always special days. They were quiet. They were sacred. Special . . . that's the best word to describe them.
My mother would get us up and we would get ready to go to Sunday School. For quite a few years it would be just me getting ready for Sunday School, but when my sister got old enough it would be her too, and my brother eventually joined us. Before Sunday School began we would always watch Davey and Goliath on the television. I never ever saw it in colour . . . it was always black and white, but I loved it.
Davey was the boy and Goliath was his dog . . . and Davey had a whole family. There was always a moral and a lesson taught. It was a great show. I wonder if there is an equivalent available today?
WE all had special "Sunday" clothes. Those were clothes that were saved for celebrations and special occasions. We always wore them on Sundays. A bus would sometimes pick us up to go to Sunday School, but more often than not we walked there. I don't remember it ever raining, but I am sure that it must have done. When I was really small I had white gloves to wear and always a hat. I can remember one hat that was like a hairband and it pinched my head and hurt to wear it. I used to get a "Perfect Attendance" award at the end of each year in Sunday School, and it was a really big deal and always came with a certificate and a pin to wear. I had a lot of those pins. I loved Sunday School every bit as much as I loved regular school! I still love to sing the songs I learned in Sunday School . . . "Tell me the Stories of Jesus" . . . "Onward Christmas Soldiers" . . . "Jesus loves me" . . .
Church was a family affair once we all got a bit older, but when I was really young it would just be myself and my dad, maybe my sister. Going to a church on a Military Base . . . the Anglicans used to all sit on the left hand side of the church and we "other" Christian denominations would always sit on the right. "They" did a lot of kneeling. "We" didn't seem to have to. The Catholics had their own church . . . a bit further along the road.
There was always a lady in the church who fancied herself as being an opera singer . . . I can remember it sometimes being hard not to laugh.
Of course once I got old enough . . . I sang in the "JuniorChoir." There was a great sense of pride in getting to sit in the choir loft and wear the choir gown. We juniors always had a white gown with a red collar insert.
Sunday afternoons were generally pretty quiet. My father always took a nap, my mother would be getting dinner ready . . . we children would do our homework if we had any or play quiet games, read, etc. I can remember playing at embroidery and knitting. My father had made us knitting spools out of my mother's old wooden thread spools (nothing was ever wasted). He pounded four small nails into the tops of each, and being armed with nothing but that and some yarn scraps and a safety pin, we "Knitted" long multi coloured snakes. It kept us busy.
I remember our mother making us button spinners one time with some yarn and large buttons. So much fun.
If we were really lucky we would go for a Sunday Drive. Those didn't happen really often, but when they did they were really special. Once we moved back to Nova Scotia, Sunday afternoons always meant visiting with the cousins, etc. And I remember when we were visiting with family in America . . . there would always be a Sunday paper to read. In Canada it was the "Star Weekly" that was always delivered on the Saturday and we would be allowed to read the comic inserts on Sunday afternoons.
Sunday Dinners were always special because there would always be dessert. Sometimes cake, sometimes pie . . . sometimes just a scoop of ice cream on top of some jello. Always there would be a roast of some sort or maybe even steak, and all of the vegetables. My mother made the best tossed salads . . . with a vinaigrette dressing. The dressing would start early in the afternoon . . . she would chop onion and then macerate them in vinegar and oil so that by the time the salad was finished and dressed it tasted simply gorgeous. At least it did to me.
Sunday evenings always, ALWAYS began with this. Oh how we loved it. I had my favourite episodes of course . . . Hans Brinker and the Silver Skates was one. Sometimes we got really lucky and it would all be cartoons. Other times it would be a serial movie. Always it was entertaining. Going to Disneyland was always a dream . . . it still is.
Sunday Nights also meant Ed Sullivan and his show. It was always really special for me if Topo Gigo was on it. The mouse puppet. This was entertainment with a capital "E."
These guys were also an important part of our Sunday evenings . . .
It was a quieter, gentler time for sure. What are some of your Sunday memories?
As it is the first Sunday of the month, I would love to leave you with my testimony.
I am so very grateful to have the Gospel in my life, which means that Sundays are still very special days of the week for me. I love to go to church and spend time with people who feel the same way as I do about things, to feel truly a part of something which is large. I love my Heavenly Father with all of my heart. I know that He loves and cares for me by name, and as an individual. I am His daughter and I feel of His love every day of my life. I love my Saviour and am so very grateful for all that He has done and continues to do for me. I can never repay him. It would be impossible . . . but I can follow His teachings and His ways . . . and I can live my life in a way that honors and exemplifies Him. I live the Atonement each day of my life . . . I rely on it, trust in it . . . it is my solace and my peace. I am so very grateful for modern day prophets and all that they teach us about the things we need to be doing and the direction we need to be going. I am also very grateful to be able to serve my Heavenly Father with the Saviours name on my chest. Serving a mission has been a great blessing to both myself and to Todd. We have witnessed miracles and experienced them as well. Serving together has brought us joy and added a depth to our relationship with each other and with the Saviour that we might not have experienced otherwise. I am so grateful for this opportunity. I love my husband and I love my family. It is my deepest wish that one day we will all be able to sit down together at our Heavenly Father's table. My life is filled with joy, peace, love and hope . . . and that is largely due to the Gospel of Jesus Christ, which is meant for everyone not just the few. And I say these things most humbly in the name of my Saviour, Jesus Christ. Amen.
In The English Kitchen today . . . . gluten free Apricot and Pecan Truffles.
Don't forget . . .
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And I do too!!