GOING TO CHURCH IN WILDWOOD
FIRST BAPTIST CHURCH IN WILDWOOD
There’s a church in the valley by the wildwood
No lovelier place in the dale
No spot is so dear to my childhood
As the little brown church in the vale
Come to the church by the wildwood
Oh, come to the church in the dale
No spot is so dear to my childhood
As the little brown church in the dale
Mama, Clara and I seldom missed Sunday School and the 11:00 AM church service. Daddy attended occasionally since he was often on a railroad run. We were active in RAs and GAs and many other church activities. We never missed a church dinner. We proudly wore our Sunday School attendance pins to church weekly.
Credit: Ebay
We were faithful Sunday School and Church attendees for many years. During the 1950s I got my learner’s permit and became the church chauffer, driving the family to church. A church-related problem existed, EVERY Sunday. My sister, Clara, and my mother were very slow getting dressed and doing their final primping to leave for church. We were always about to be late. My solution, which seldom got any results, was to start the car, back it out of the garage, and blow the car horn until Mama and Clara came out the door to get into the car. They knew we were about to be late but the horn seemed to slow them down. At least God knew we were on our way and would arrive eventually. I don’t think we were ever actually late.
