Zorro Came to Church

Here's proof: a visitor card, left in the back of a pew. And look, Zorro even desires a pastoral call and desires to know more about the Christian life! Fantastic!

However, it's going to be a difficult task to get in touch with Zorro for any kind of follow-up because, oh dear, his phone number is listed as "ZORRO."* That's not very helpful.

Equally unhelpful is the fact that on the back of the card, he wrote "ZORRO" in the blank for the date; and for his address, he put "DAVID, ZORRO, JOSIAH." His home church is interesting: "MOM DAD." Looks like he's a house church kind of guy.

I wonder if that Fisher family would know how to reach him. It's rumored that they're awfully friendly with him... ;)

Days 15, 16, 17, & 18 - I've been reminiscing about visits to my maternal grandparents' home. They lived on a farm in southern Pennsylvania, a treasure trove of nooks and crannies for young grandchildren to explore. I remember that someone--must have been my granddad--made boats for my brother David and I. Really, they were just pieces of wood, slightly hollowed out and curved, with a hole in one end to put a string through so we wouldn't lose them in the water. But to us, they were grand boats, and we delighted in sailing them in the "crik" that started by the springhouse on their farm and trickled along until it joined other streams and eventually ended up in the Potomac River. Every time we drove to their house, we had to cross the Potomac; and I always felt so proud that water from MY granddad's farm was supplying that mighty river!

I remember evening walks "down the Wallbash." I have no idea how to spell that, but that's how it sounds: wall-bash. It was the country road that turned off my grandparents' road and went straight out from their house, and it was a splendid place to walk in the cool of summer evenings. The older folks would each have a walking stick; and I'm sure as we went along, David and I would go ahead and then come back to the slower moving members of the group, then race off again. With very little traffic, it was quite a safe place to be (although every time we took this walk, I had to look up a small hill to see if I could spot the entrance to a cave on their land...who knows what might have been hiding in that cave?...a little thrill would go up my spine at the thought). If we did encounter human traffic, we would be sure to give the obligatory wave. Chances were good that my grandparents not only knew who it was that was passing us, but also where they were going--and why!

I remember playing croquet in their front yard in the evening. Daytime, of course, was used for the work that needed to be done (although even that was a fun adventure for me as a child); but when evening came, we could relax and cease our labor for the day. There were always gnats at their house, it seemed; but we learned that they were attracted to the highest part of a person's body (that's why you don't get swarms of insects around your knees, just your face), so if we raised an arm high in the air, they would fly around that and not bother our faces so much. There were lightning bugs, too; and we would catch them and put them in glass jars with holes in the lids. What child in the country hasn't done that?!

I remember my grandparents' dog Frisky. It was a Siberian husky and was white (although "muddy" was sometimes more accurate a descriptor). It was an outside dog, like most farm dogs, and was kept chained in the backyard to be a watchdog. It knew how to bark, that's for sure! When my brother and I were a little older, my mother would encourage us to take Frisky for walks to let him have some exercise. Take him for a walk? That was a joke. He took us! Round and round the yard we would race as fast as our legs could go, holding onto the leash for dear life. He certainly enjoyed those runs! :)

There is SO MUCH more I could write about those wonderful times on the farm, and I hope someday I will get more of those memories written down. For now, it's time to skedaddle to bed, so I'll end with this: I'm thankful for country criks and boats that float, evening walks in places where everyone knows everyone, fun in the yard catching lightning bugs, dear ol' Frisky, and these (many) happy memories!

* Did you notice that on the visitor card, David wrote all the "z's" correctly? That's an improvement, but now we have to work on "j." When Josiah sees the way David writes his name these days, he says somewhat sadly, "David wrote my 'J' backwards."