It was a sad day on my return to the old church where I grew up loving the old gospel songs.
I always felt closer to heaven when we sang and I felt the angels were nearby singing harmonies on Amazing Grace.
I walked down the hallway opening the doors to the Sunday school classrooms. It was here that I learned about angels and read stories from the Bible about a carpenter called Jesus.
The church library was still there although the books were dusty and some near the window faded and forgotten. I remember the joy that I felt when I would sit by the stained-glass window reading the stories, the poetry, and Dirt Road Storytellers.
There was a garden shed behind the church and I can still remember how the dirt smelled as I planted flowers in terracotta pots. I loved sitting there among the flowers and shrubs. I still love my garden and spend a while there every morning listening to the birdsongs.
I always carry the memories of my country church and I always love exploring the dirt roads and abandoned barns, churches, and farms.
It was there in those places that I started my journey toward the light.
Thank you for your kindness. I often feel as an old soul, my mom always called me a wayfarer. Perhaps I am just a storyteller or poet!!!
When I read the first chapters a while back, I was not sure if you were writing in the voice of somebody else from a time long ago, but it seems to be your own memories?
I walked with you in spirit on the dirt road and pondered how different lives can be.