When the church bells rang through the small grove, there was a simple pleasure in knowing the day was just beginning. Sunday’s best and freshly combed hair marched fervently pass the apple trees and inside the white wooden doors. Petite women and brawny men in between the pews gathered with their lighthearted children to listen to the preacher’s careful words.
The preacher dressed modestly but with a curious cautiousness. He had a voice that pulled on heartstrings and a gaiety admirable by even the darkest hearts. The kind of voice that made one forget the past, anticipate the future and appreciate the present.