Friday, July 10, 2009

VBS as a kid

When I was a kid, the little local United Methodist church did the summer VBS. We didn't attend the church. We attend the much BIGGER (hahahaha) catholic church. BUT everyone went to VBS. SO there was about 6 of us. No, not really. Probably about 30 or so.

VBS was in the morning. We would would wake up and rub the sleep from our eyes. Clutching the quarter our mom gave all of us kids for offering, we would trek up the mountain. Really it was just a big hill but to us at 8:30 a.m., it was a mountain.

Now, I remember singing time. Mim (I believe her name was) who (no disrespect cause I know she is still around) but I thought was so old. But she played the piano with ease though and led us kids in worship. We would sing and laugh. We always had snack outside sitting on the steps. Our favorite craft was always the painting day. We had a bible teacher every year. One time we made Viv laugh for days because we told her that the dead guy looked more like he was swimming. And when we got older John volunteered to teach us (even though we were too old!) He was very soft spoken but would laugh and play games with us. The pastor would always be involved. Pastor Tom praying before and after. Pastor Roy walking around with balloons on his head and teaching us how to play don't steal the bacon.

And closing night was the best. We would have a bonfire right there at the church!! We would all memorize a scripture, and learn a song for our grade. And we would put on a program. With all of our families there, the town seemed to empty into the church. Then downstairs we would go!!! Hot dogs and marshmallows were roasted outside. We ran around and laughed and played. Showing our parents the crafts we had made. The bible notebook we had completed. We went every year to VBS. Wishing it was 2 weeks instead of the 1.

Now, I can't tell you one song we sang in those million years of VBS. I can't tell you the theme or the scripture I am sure I memorized. The only crafts I slightly remembered is plaster and painting. I don't remember the snack or the message. BUT I do remember the people.

I remember those people who gave up their morning one week one summer to come and laugh and play. The adults who who hugged you and were happy you were there. I never felt out of place or lonely up there. Everyone knew our name and our family. The adults played the games, and ate the hot dogs. And it wasn't until I was older did I truly appreciate what they did. Men and women. Young and old. Coming up to the church, decorating, planning, and loving us. They did it because they wanted to make a difference in the live of the kids. They wanted us to know the love of Jesus was not a story but it was first hand something REAL. They wanted to SHOW us that. And they did. I know they made a difference in mine.

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