This Time of The Year

AT THE CARETAKERS’ CABIN at the Church O The Pines, the golden needles have been blown off the roof. Things are being stowed away for winter, even as other decorative things are set out for any wayward hobgoblins or spooks who may traipse down the long lane on All Hallows’ Eve. This is the time of year when, once preparations are made, all the woods and countryside seems to be waiting. Waiting for the big change, the first real snow, the deep cold, the long winter. But for now autumn holds, with all its beauty and plenty.

The congregation of the Church remain chipper and noisy and busy. Fellowship Hall is well-stocked with goodies on a Sunday morning—cracked corn, suet, sunflower seeds, donuts and bottomless cups of coffee—and rumors and small talk are exchanged around the buffet tables. In the woodsy chapel hymns are sung and the pipe organ plays in the pines when the wind blows. Ours is an old-fashioned church, small and modest, certainly not a modern, media-centric ‘mega-church’. But from our humble gathering place we enjoy staying in touch with our friends and followers. And we hope these small bulletins bring a smile or a warm feeling, as church attendance should, even on a chilly fall day. Good sabbath!

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