By: Jennifer Richardson Holt
As I sit here, it looks like it is snowing. Now it most certainly is not since in my neck of the woods we are not often blessed with such pleasantries. And I do realize that snow is not necessarily pleasant in the opinions of all my readers however if you live in a place such as I do and the sight of a winter wonderland is unbelievably rare, you will possibly understand why snow and snow-esque things are a treat for me. What is causing this fluffy white, yet not at all wet or cold blizzard that is swirling around me in my vehicle right now is the seeds of some sort of vegetation. Since my windows are down several of these fervent little fluffs have sauntered their way inside and landed on my seats, floorboards and even on my arm. I am shooing them back outside as best they can be shooed. I hate to see them flying about with such well-meaning germinating ambition only to end up stuck to the bottom of a shoe, though, knowing my daughter’s shoes, I suppose there could in fact be enough dirt there for sprouting possibilities.
I think today, since I have begun to tell you the tales of my surroundings, maybe I’ll just go with that. I can’t really make any promises about just how fascinating what I share will be but, I try not to make any guarantees about that as I know some will enjoy what I write about and some most assuredly will not and I have come to terms with that. There is another little tidbit that I am looking at as I type. To my right there are the remnants of a church. It seems as though the front half of the building was sheared off and all that remains is what would have been the back of the sanctuary and the classrooms behind. I remember long ago when I was in school that the church still stood. Then they built a new bigger building elsewhere and this structure was abandoned. I cannot however for the life of me remember why the front had to be taken off. Now there are trees and weeds that have grown up around it obscuring the better part of it from view. As a matter of fact, there is presently some sort of creature making scuttling sounds among the bricks and brush. I cannot see what type of animal is making the noise but knowing he is perusing the ruins of a church I have to wonder if it is just a matter of happenstance or if it was his preferred denomination.
This church was (and still is) THE local congregation. Yes, there are many other churches in the area as is the case with most parts of the rural South, but this is THE church. It is the biggest of the little community and the bulk of the community attends it. The pastor is the chaplain for the local school’s football team. As a matter of fact, in the past few weeks I have heard several reports of multiple players on said football team getting baptized in this church. It’s appropriate that its role is so intertwined into the school’s the football team. The two are probably what inspires the most fervent passion in this tiny town.
Speaking of the sport, another playoff game is coming up for this football team. They’ve made it to the third round of the playoffs this year so far. They went to the state championship last year. This playoff game will be at home, and we have suddenly had a cold snap so this Friday night (it will be past by the time you read this) there will be countless people piled into that snug little stadium. I actually plan to be one of them myself. But this town loves its team so I have no doubt I will be absolutely amazed at the amount of folks that will turn out. For a town that has nothing but a gas station, school, volunteer fire department and a caution light it is shocking to see the number of people that will turn up to watch a football game. These things draw a massive crowd, (and yes, the crowd also travels well to games that aren’t in town) and I can’t truly say from whence all those folks come. I mean I don’ t know that the population of people outnumbers the population of cows around here and yet here are droves of people. Hmm, now that I think about it, we do ring cow bells as noisemakers at these games so, I guess that is more appropriate than I had realized since the two populations are the main ones.
So, there you have it just a day in the life of sitting in line to pick up my daughter from school. I’m just watching the wind blow and listening to random wildlife in old church ruins. In the old graveyard beside me that no longer has its church counterpart, some headstones are centuries old, and some are newer. And some bear the names that will appear on the signage telling the name of a stadium that will hold the better part of a small town and it’s surrounding areas come Friday night. Then the bulk of that crowd will appear in a local church come Sunday morning. It’s just a little town full of family and history that embraces its minimal, rural nature with a sense of pride. We’re just simple small-town folk who love to watch our boys under the Friday night lights and praise our Maker under the steeple a little more than 24 hours later. It’s just who we are and who we are is fine by me.
Prose and Possibilities 