The steeple is removed now and The heavy belfry bell has been Stored away. The beautiful colored windows have Been salvaged and will hopefully be Used in the new church two Miles down the road in the Tiny village. I saw the colorful stained glass designs Every Sunday morning growing up. My favorite pane pictured the dove From Noah's ark carrying the olive Branch in its beak. Once an old preacher came back Home to visit, and I remember his Words as he stood and pointed to The high window. "If this church is every torn down, I Would love to have that dove." The man is long gone, and I wonder where our favorite bird Will end up. Somehow I thought the church would Always be standing on the country Crossroads where it has stood for more Than 118 years. It was more than a Sunday building for me. It was a landmark. I saw the stately brick structure every Single day from my house just A quarter mile down the road. It was my heritage. My ancestors established the German Pietist Church when they immigrated, And one of my great, greats was An early pastor. I accepted Jesus there at a revival service. I was married there. I will be buried in the graveyard there. My name is already etched on the stone Along side Min's. The younger generation won't miss the Building for they didn't hear the Bell ring on Sunday mornings or The hymns reverberate from the Tall ceiling. They didn't see my dad sit on one Side of the sanctuary with my five brothers While my mom tended to me on the other As they carried out the old Traditions. They never rang the bell on New Year's Eve as our youth group welcomed the new. It's just we old ones with the Memories burned inside that can Barely let it go. I'm glad I'm not there to see the Rain pour through the gaping Holes where the colorful windows Were once intact. I'd rather see the empty spot when It's gone and remember it as It was. As the wrecking ball carries out its Destructive work until not a stone Remains, I'm glad the congregation continues to carry On its redemptive work, For the true church is not a building After all. |
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Dorothy Kalb Hsu Seitzinger
Writing poetry has helped me process and express my sorrows and joys, my concerns and blessings. "Life is hard, but God is good!" Archives
December 2020
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