19 Apr 2016 Back rows and books of the Bible

by Vivian Lawson Hogue

My best friend, Carolyn Lewis, and I spent hours of our early years in church doing the best we could to pay attention, yet pursuing mutual interests. The sermons were beyond us, but it seemed that the venue of the faithful was where we should be. We often sat in the back of the sanctuary, making sure we had a printed program and hymnal. That looked normal enough outwardly, but not all was above board.

We sang, enjoying the old majestic and salvation-laced hymns. However, there were moments when we just had to communicate quietly, so we developed our own code system. It was tedious, but with the tiny pencils on the back of the pew in front of us, we would point out letters in the program to “spell” words and phrases. One might call it a forerunner to texting. I have no memory of the contents, but as 14-year-olds, I’m sure it was profound. We eventually graduated to being acolytes. They had not learned yet that we shouldn’t be paired in such situations.

For an obscure reason, probably out of desperation for sopranos, we were convinced to sing in the adult choir. The “adult” part was likely not an accurate description of us, but we did our best. We were still gigglers, as evidenced by the time my Velcro belt separated itself upon a deep breath, making a “joyful noise” that set us off. Oh, and the time I realized that Carolyn was lip-syncing and I was on my own.

We graduated to attending week-long church camps at camps Aldersgate and Tanako, both of which were in picturesque and spiritual settings. I don’t think either of us had ever been away from home that long, so even the bus ride to Camp Tanako in Hot Springs was as good as going to New York City. Before we left town, we sent letters to each other so we would get something at mail call. Little did I know that my mother would send post cards and the Log Cabin Democrat every day.

We were assigned to a cabin with girls from other towns. There was no air conditioning, but few homes or businesses had it then so we didn’t miss it. There was a “canteen” where we went for snacks during breaks. Candy and sodas were extremely rare treats in my home, so for a week I lived a lavish life. Carolyn had her favorite Grapettes to drink until a girl told her they contained prune juice and her interest waned.

Extracurricular activities were our favorites. Our parents wouldn’t have approved of Carolyn’s and my self-initiated boat ride on the lake. We had never been in a boat, had no life vests and couldn’t swim. On another occasion, we were chased by a flock of rogue turkeys. We were walking leisurely to a class and apparently entered their territory. They chased us, but we out-ran them, thus getting to class on time. We were told later that the area was a former turkey farm and we had met some “leftovers,” so to speak.

On the bus ride home, we were in the company of youngsters from Russellville. Fortunately, we had learned forgiveness during the week and used it when they called Conway “Cow Town” when we arrived home. That was okay — we still had the football season to sort all that out.

Yes, they were church camps and we did learn biblical matters. We memorized the books of the Bible and sang songs around a campfire. One old hymn can now be applied to our life experiences. Indeed, we can truly say that God’s “eye is on the sparrow,” or the turkey, as the case may be. We know He was, and is even yet, watching us.