Profile
Photos
Comments
One Sunday morning, the pastor noticed little Alex was staring up at the large plaque that hung in the foyer of the church. The plaque was covered with names, and small American flags were mounted on either side of it.
The seven-year old had been staring at the plaque for some time, so the pastor walked up, stood beside the boy, and said quietly, "Good morning Alex."
"Good morning pastor," replied the young man, still focused on the plaque.
 "Pastor McGhee, what is this?" Alex asked.
 "Well, son, it's a memorial to all the young men and women who died in the service."
Soberly, they stood together, staring at the large plaque.
Little Alex's voice was barely audible when he asked, "Which service, the 8:30 or the 11:00?"
My grandchildren have had their moments in church as well. Â Grandson, when he was about five, decided that he was getting too big to stay in the nursery after Sunday School during church services, or "Big Church", as he called it. Â Yet, he did not want to go to Children's Church.
"I want to go into "Big Church" with you", he informed his mom.
She cautioned him that he would have to be very quiet, which, of course, he promised faithfully to do.
All went well until the collection plate was passed. Â My daughter dropped her donation into the plate, then handed it to Grandson to pass to the next person.
He promptly reached in, took his mother's money out and handed it back to her, stating loud enough for all to hear.
"Mommy, what are you doing? Â We NEED our money!"
When she quietly whispered that it was money for the church, he announced once again to the congregation.
"Well, that's a total waste."
He went to Children's Church from then on!!
On another occasion I took Grandson and Big Sissy (who was not yet a Sissy since Little Buddy was still only a gleam in her daddy's eye) to Sunday School. Â Grandson was now about 8 and BiG Sissy was about 3 or 4. Â
Both wanted to go into Big Church with me. Â Against my better judgement I acquiesced. Â We had our opening prayer, we sang two or three songs. then we had communion as we do every Sunday in my denomination.
Finally, the minister began his sermon. Â He had been holding forth for some twenty or thirty minutes. Â All this time Big Sissy had been perfect. Â She hadn't skirmed, she hadn't asked to go to the bathroom, she hadn't asked for a bite of cracker or one of those little cups of juice when we took communion--all-in-all, she had just been perfect.
Suddenly, in a loud voice and from out of the blue she stated for all to hear in a very matter of fact tone, Â "We are going to have to stay here forever, aren't we?"Â 
/p>