You'll get a chuckle out of this tale from "The Grits Guide to Life". . . .
My young daughter Dana often visited her grandparents in a small Southern town where every day a siren blew to mark the noon hour. It was so loud that it terrified the poor girl and left her screaming. In order to soothe her and help her understand, her preacher grandpa (my daddy) told her the horn was to let the children know it was time to go home for lunch. He even suggested that Dana say the words, "Go home and get your lunch" each time the whistle blew, which she would do at the top of her little lungs, albeit with the fear of God written all over her face.
One Sunday, our entire family was packed into the second row of the church, listening to Dad deliver his sermon. He was pretty wound up that day, if I remember correctly. It was breezy and all the church windows were open.
Well, right in the middle of his railing, and before we realized what was happening, darn it if that noon whistle didn't blow. Dana stood up in the pew, turned toward the three hundred people in the congregation, and shouted, "Go home and get your lunch!"
Do I have to tell you what happened? Church was over at that very moment. No benediction and no sevenfold amen! Later my preacher daddy, who had the world's best sense of humor, admitted: "It wouldn't have been so bad if half the congregation hadn't shouted AMEN!"
Yesterday afternoon there was a lull in the chaos and activity going on at the farmstead these last couple of weeks. . .It came unexpectedly. . .I looked up from my computer when I realized something was different, glancing toward the window and being struck by the sun steaming in and the peacefulness of our living room. . .It might be too vintage for many. . .but to me it was picture perfect farmhouse setting. . .Let's see if you agree. . .