Thursday, February 20, 2014

Missionary Mauve

Ah had a lil flashback the other day. (not sure where this note going but we will see)

Growing up my mom was always deeply involved in church: choir, Sunday school, missionary work, church board etc which of course meant that until I was a teen I had to go with her to church whenever she went so I guess I can rightly say I grew up in church. Ah not sure if that is a good thing that I admit that or a bad thing cause allya might say wait he grow up in  church an he duz behave so fa true? lawd a mercy!!

Anyways church was Sunday school followed by long, long, long service on Sundays from as far back as I can remember and of course there was also Sunday night service to go to if my dad wasn't home and Wednesday night service as well.

I don't remember much if anything about those services to be honest, just shouting pastors, off-key loud singing and sharply beating cymbals which I wish I had the rhythm to use and me sitting in a church pew hoping that the time would go by faster.

I used to have to take part too: reciting poems at Christmas and Harvest programs and singing in choirs and the like. For those, I just remember the very strong feeling of fear in anticipation of my performance, a salute, a duty out of necessity to properly form and project my words (sans microphone in those days) followed by a relief that I didn't mess up or at least no one seemed to notice if I did slightly mess up.


Was a small church, not more than 40 or 50 members total but it was kind of cool that you got knew everyone. Of course everyone knew you too so ya had to behave properly.But that was a different day doan get me started on today's youts.

So my church also had this women's missionary group which would once or so a month carry on some early evening Sunday service or "cottage meeting" for shut-ins before the main Sunday evening service. I never really got the point of it but all in all it wasn't as long as regular church service so it was all pretty tolerable just another church event except for one thing.......

The missionary ladies had this uniform that they wore, a dress made out of some heavy type of material. It was some sort of light mauve with a white color.

I don't know what that uniform ever did me but from small til now I cannot stand that color.  

I mean I'm pretty sure it wasn't a traumatic event that led to the dislike of the color but maybe it was just seeing that badly shaped uniform over and over that drove me over the edge with regards to mauve lol.

Up to now anytime i see that color I will tell ya straight I just don't like that color.

Anyway that came flooding back in my memory this weekend for no apparent reason. Maybe I caught sight of someone wearing the same color but I don't remember. I just remember it is just not me favorite color.

See knew this post was going nowhere lol

1 comment:

VirginiaC said...

Amazing how the simplest things can trigger childhood memories.
I saw a clamacherry tree the other day...I hadn't seen one in years.
Immediately I was taken back to making small notebooks by gluing pages together with the gluey seeds.