Tales about Vacation Bible School

     Vacation Bible School finished up this week and I was able to be present and help out for the last day. It just so happened that VBS fell on my work week and I wasn't able to volunteer as I had in the past. I helped out in other aspects....I cut out a lot of paper crafts during the month of March, my right hand was temporarily formed in the "scissors claw" after spending night after night of cutting.

      The name Vacation Bible School is deceiving. It's not a vacation by any means. It's work for a lot people that run the show.  By the time everyone gets home from Vacation Bible School, they are tired and spent. I completely understand, that was me last year when I was the leader of Kid Video. So....totally not a vacation by any means. The bible part is easy because the message is delivered so that every child can understand how God works. The "school" part is a hard sell, because no one wants to go to school in the summer, but yet, every summer, 80 or so kids show up on the church's doorstep looking for fun and some bible adventure. And the moms that drop their kids off, are the same as the moms that dropped their kids off 40 odd years ago. Frazzled moms looking for their kids to be occupied and out of their hair for a few hours. I get this, because my mom was one of those moms, 40 or so years ago and I am one of those moms today.

     I grew up going to Vacation Bible School in my one horse town. It had classes from kindergarten to Grade 8. When I was a VBSer, it was a two week long program, run like a school, minus the math. We  had work books, and we were told to spell things properly, and be neat, just like regular school. We had recess, where we played tag and Red Rover.  We had snack time, we ate homemade cookies and drank glasses filled with Kool Aid and Tang.  We had music, we sang and all of our songs were written on paper, placed on easel. We had a nice lady play the piano so we could sing our hearts out. "We come to magnify the Lord. We come to magnify the Lord!"  We studied the bible stories, and learned to incorporate our own little lives into the lessons. We had arts and crafts as well. We made wooden bowls out of fancy popsicle sticks. We burnt the tips of matches and glued them onto a cardboard cross. We made string art using nails and a hammer, and mobiles out of a clothes hanger we brought from home.  We worked out of a classroom and had the same teacher for the full morning. We stayed in that classroom only be let out for recess and for the final singing at the end of the morning.
   
     Oh, I failed to mention, I went to Mennonite Bible School. I am not a Mennonite. But when the closest town is only 5 minutes away and  mother wants us all out of the house for the morning for two weeks, you go to Mennonite Vacation Bible School whether you want to or not. I think all the mothers on the 6th line wanted their kids out, so whoever was doing the morning pick up to get all of us kids to VBS, had us crammed into the car like sardines on a hot summers day. Who cared about seat belts? Who cared if there were seats in the vehicle?  If the mothers could, they would have grabbed a tractor and a hay wagon and loaded it up with kids just steal a morning without their children hanging off their legs.  Back in that day, my mother was a smoker.  I pictured her sitting at the kitchen table with a coffee and cigarette with the radio tuned to "Swingin' Wingham" relishing her quiet and mulling over in her mind what to start first while we were all away.

      Now I can only speak for myself about my experiences at VBS, but while my mother was washing up the breakfast dishes, and getting a load ready for the spin washing machine, I was happily lining up outside the little Mennonite Church waiting to go and begin the day with singing. I had friends at school, I knew people, so bible school was a fine place to be. I always wanted to get to bible school early, if you were one of the first kids in line, you got the coveted job of holding the collection plate for the money we kids brought in to save other kids from behind that mysterious iron curtain. We prayed for those kids behind the iron curtain, we raised money for the kids behind the iron curtain, that iron curtain baffled me. Why didn't those kids just move the iron curtain and step in front of it. Everyday I came with money for the children behind the iron curtain and  it must have helped, because I know now, that the iron curtain is no more. The Vacation Bible School kids made a difference!

      There were only a few times that I didn't give all of my money to the iron curtain kids.  Confession time!!!!

      A few times, when my car load of kids arrived early to VBS, my friend and I would walk the block to the local grocery store and buy nickel gum. Not even good gum, it wasn't even Double Bubble gum, it was the knock off Double Bubble gum, but still candy is candy. I was easily swayed to go, it wasn't even my idea, it was my friend's idea.She was a year older than me, so of course she was wiser, and  I liked the idea of going to get gum. My mom gave me a quarter everyday to give to the iron curtain kids. I had perfectly good reasoning behind my decision in going with my friend to get knock off Double Bubble gum.

     "I don't get ever get gum so I'm kinda like a kid stuck behind the iron curtain, I'm stuck behind the I Don't Ever Get Gum Curtain therefore I deserve gum too."

     I felt justified. It wasn't my fault that the kids behind the iron curtain couldn't move the curtain. If the curtain was that heavy, why didn't their parents move the curtain so they could move out from behind it?  Besides, I didn't spend all of my money, I always had a dime leftover to put into the collection plate for those kids. It was a win/win situation, I got gum and the kids got a little closer to getting out from behind that curtain. And then.....

     I got caught! My mom told me that she had talked to the owner of the local grocery store. He had mentioned that he had seen me and my friend in the store by ourselves. He thought it odd that we were in the store without our mothers and with our town being so small, he knew that we belonged at Vacation Bible School. There went my gum! It was probably at this point in my life, that I knew that I wasn't meant to be a "bad girl." I did keep on trying to play that part, but those are tales for another day.

     The best part of Vacation Bible School, besides all the singing that we did and crafting, was Mrs. Brownsberger.  She lived beside the little Mennonite church and she was an elderly Mennonite lady. She was a soft, round lady, with steel grey hair that was scraped into a bun and she had a white mesh cap covering her hair. She had kind eyes, with deep wrinkles in her face and she made caramel covered popcorn balls for us kids every once and a while. At the end of the morning, we would stand at her back door and she would hand out popcorn balls. I always thought Mrs.Brownberger was 100 years old, but looking back and thinking about it, I'm pretty sure she was 100 years old.

     The other best part of Vacation Bible School, was the finale. On the last morning, we would spend our time rehearsing for the evening finale. Our parents were invited for the big show, the dads would quickly do their milking and their evening chores, so they could drive the whole family into town, so the VBS kids could showcase their singing, what they had learned during the two weeks, and show off our crafts. After the presentation, it was time for cookies and coffee, walking around to the classrooms to pick up our workbooks, our crafts and say good bye to Vacation Bible School friends. "See you next year!" we would call out to each other. After VBS had ended, chances are, I wouldn't seem them again till the next summer. They went to a different church, a different school, they lived on different concessions and travelled in different circles.  After all, they were Mennonite kids, and I was not.

     Vacation Bible School has been running for years and years. This program can not run without the help of many volunteers. Back when I was at Mennonite VBS, it was stay at home Mennonite mothers that ran the program with the help of their teenage daughters. In this day in age, it takes all kinds of people to help keep this show up and running. Some of the volunteers are stay at home moms, some are part time working moms who can manage to juggle their schedule to help out. Some moms, use their week of work holidays to come out and volunteer, some moms are teachers and even though they have the summer off, it's kind of them to come in for a week and teach. Some moms have an empty nest at home, but they see the need and happily come to VBS and spread some joy! Some moms are retired but take great pride in seeing their grandchildren enjoy VBS while they help out in the kitchen preparing snacks for kids. Lots of our volunteers are community teenagers, of course getting their volunteer hours, but also taking such great care and showing such compassion when they lead their charges around to different stations. We also have a dad, that does such a fantastic job, front and centre, on stage, getting the kids energized for a fun filled morning and then recapping what the kids have learned at the end.

     It takes a village to raise kids and all takes is one seed to be planted in one child heart's to know that all the work that is involved is worth it.

     Cheers and thanks to everyone who has ever volunteered for any "kind" Vacation Bible School!

From the 4th line,
Arlene






 

   

 
     

Writing Prompt: Worst Thanksgiving Dish You Ever Had.

     Here she comes, flying through my front door with her car coat flapping behind her.

     "What are you up to?" She smiles that gaped toothed, heavy on the lipstick smile at me. Do I tell her she has lipstick on her front tooth? Just as I'm about to say something about the lipstick, she takes a puff off her cigarette and says, "I forgot how you dislike my smoking." She purses her lips like she's going to whistle at me, but instead she struts across my kitchen floor and extinguishes her cigarette in an empty milk glass that needs to be washed. The lipstick on her front tooth has disappeared, no need to say anything.

     "You aren't going to be drinking out that glass again." She flops onto my kitchen couch and stares at me, with a look at disdain on her face, but yet she has a twinkle in her eye.

     Meet my friend Esmeralda. I wasn't expecting her today, but that's how she does life. She's my brazen friend, she says what she wants, does what she wants, dresses how she wants, takes the bull by the horns kind of woman. After she sheds her car coat, I'm amazed at how she can pull off a flirty little sundress....at her age. Those shoes, killer heels. I'm silently coveting her shoes. Her feet are so dainty compared to my stepsister feet. Her voice is raspy, like she has been out on tour singing in smokey bars chatting up the gentlemen looking for a free drink. She probably has.

     "Well, enthrall me with your wonderful tales. I've been gone so long and you know how I don't do social media. Look at me and tell me dear one, what have you on your plate this go around?"
 She swings her legs with those beauty shoes still attached to her feet and lounges on my couch, waiting for me to speak.The twinkle in her eye doesn't leave, but there is a spark in her tongue.

     "Oh Esmeralda." I begin. "I've been working on a writing prompt. The worst Thanksgiving dish I ever had."

     She looks at me in anticipation. "So? What is it? What is the worst thanksgiving dish you have ever eaten? Certainly it couldn't be worse than when I was in the South of France and we ran out of wine!" She shrieks with laughter! "Imagine! Me running out of wine! But that's a tale for another day!" She's off again, laughing so hard her eyes fill with tears.

     "It goes a number of years back." I say to Esmeralda. "A lot of years back. The worst thanksgiving dish I ever had was a turnip casserole with broiled marshmallows on the top. It was the worst. Who ever thought of that combination must of had had a surplus of turnip and marshmallows hanging about and thought what a great idea! Turnip and marshmallows on their own are boring, but together, a Thanksgiving treat! Blech!  It was when I was dating that guy and he invited me over for dinner at his parents' place. Do you remember that Esmeralda?"

     "Do I remember it? I remember it like it was yesterday. That was the guy I told you not to go out with,  but you wouldn't listen. Plenty of fish in the sea I said to you, no need to drop anchor and settle in on that small fry. Back then, you did as you pleased. You were a smitten kitten with that one. No changing your mind. So, I stopped badgering you and decided to sit back and enjoy the show. You and that gorilla made it one good show. If reality TV was a thing back then, you would have had topped ratings. The drama!" I watch as Esmeralda fans her face with her hands and pretends to faint.

     I laughed at her antics. "Esmeralda! You're one to talk! How about 'Andre' the biker? One minute you were this demure pixie in ballet slippers and the next minute you were buying out the Harley store!"

     "With Andre, a lot of crazy things happened, but never turnip and marshmallows. However, one night in Las Vegas, we may have been partaking in some 'magic turnips' if you get my drift." Esmeralda is off laughing again and wiping her eyes remembering her time with Andre.

     "We've come a long way baby." I swoon at her. I push her over so I can have some room on my couch and I hug my long time friend. "How about before you leave I whip you up some turnip and broiled marshmallows, just so you can say you tried them."

     She gives me that smirk I have come to love so much and says in her most raspy voice, "No thanks, but magic turnips....maybe."

     With that she flings herself off my couch, pulls on her car coat and is half out my door, when she turns to me and says, "You know I'll be back my dear one." And she blows me kiss.

From the 4th line,
Arlene

Truth or fiction....you be the judge. :)

Writing Prompt: What Can Happen In A Second

When technology throws you a curve ball you got to move to where the ball is being thrown. I wrote this blog last night, and some how it vanished. So, I get a second chance. 

"Give me a second."
"Just a second."
"Wait a second."
"Hold up a second."

I am guilty of saying these sentences. The one I use the most is "Just a second." I throw that phrase at my boys all the time. Here's prime example. Close your eyes and picture yourself at my house at about 5:45AM. What you see is a little boy lying on the couch in a nest of blankets. What you hear is a little boy bellowing,"Mom! Can you make me a hot chocolate!" That's when you see a bleary eyed mom stumbling down the stairs and mumbling to the bellowing boy on the couch, "Just a second. My eyes are not even open yet."
Time is measured in years, months, hours, minutes and seconds. A second counts. The second is used mainly in races. It used to be that a winner would win the race by a mere second. But somehow, somewhere, and by someone, a second was taken and chopped into 100th's of a second. Now a winner wins by seconds and teeny tiny chunks of a second. Those teeny tiny chucks of second decides who goes on to the Olympics and who gets to stay home and watch the Olympics on their TV. 
I can make a second last for minutes, much to the annoyance of my boys. I frequently use "just a second" so I can get another 5 minutes. That table gets turned on me too. When I'm hollering so we can get going, I get retorted back, "Just a second." 
There are things that can happen in a second. It just took a second for an egg to slip out of your grasp to fall to the floor to cause a 5 minute clean up. In a second, a china plate can slip out one hand's when emptying out the dishwasher, causing shards of china to explode and hide in every crevice. You can lose your finger if you're not paying attention, and that one second of looking away from the saw, has caused a lot of hours spent in the hospital. Clicking on your computer mouse, just takes a second, but if you click wrong it could cause a company to lose millions. Or a click of a mouse could lead you astray. Just taking that second to look down at your phone while driving, may lead to a lifetime of consequences. 
But on the other hand, lovely things can happen in a second. In just a second, I can receive a sticky kiss on my cheek from a chubby cheeked boy. It just takes a second, to give a hug. A knowing wink to a friend takes just a second. A smile to a stranger, takes just a second. Holding the door open, that's a second. Saying please takes a second and add on one more second for thank you. A click of your computer mouse sends a thoughtful email to a dear one in a second. 
We are told as we go bumbling about this life to make our days count, as time passes by so very fast. After pondering about what can happen in a second, I'm going to think about what I can do to make each second count. And I'll do that in just a second. 

From the 4th line,
Arlene

642 Things to Write About

Writings prompts....

     While foraging through Chapters one Tuesday morning, I stumbled across this book: 642 Things to Write About.

     A quick scan through the book peaked my interest. It gives you writing prompts. Creative exercises to get the mind thinking and writing juices flowing.  I bought the book and set it on my end table and stared at it, flipped through it, stared at it again and then thought about it. The book itself, when you flip it open looks much like a fancy notebook, it states the writing prompt and then gives you lines, like paper how which to write your response. I don't want to write in the book. That would cause a mess, and my penmanship has a lot to be desired. If the book got messy inside I would never pick it up again and it doesn't give you a lot of room to write. Plus...I may have a lot to say on one writing prompt where as I may only have a few sentences to throw at another writing prompt.  

     That left me with a dilemma. Thoughts swirled in my head about starting a new blog based solely on the 642 Things to Write About. As I checked out different blog sites, from SquareSpace, to Wordpress, and Weebly, it occurred to me that I already have a blog that has been lying dormant for quite some time. Dilemma solved.

     There will still be tales from the 4th line, but I'm going to take my cues from the writing prompts for the next little while and see where that takes me. Let's breathe, change is good!  I plan on incorporating some truth, and loads of embellishments in the storytelling.  Of course I'll change the names and places to protect the innocent. You may think at times that I'm writing about myself, or you, or you, or you.

Maybe.

Let's hope you get so lucky.

From the 4th line,
Arlene :)