I was still in the act of buckling my seat belt when I noticed the first few raindrops on the windshield. By the time we got to Deering Park, it was a full-blown downpour, but that eventually passed; and by driving the wrong way down a one-way road we were able to get to the rest of the now-soggy First Parish picnickers gathered around a lonely wooden picnic table in the all but otherwise abandoned picnic area. A quick repast, the obligatory group photo, a hurried clean-up and we were all on our separate ways again. And just as my Dad and I pulled back into the driveway again, the clouds suddenly cleared, and we were once more bathed in sunlight.
Don't ask me why. Sometimes the timing just isn't right, and it rains on our parade...just as it rains on the just and the unjust alike, and into every life some rain must fall. You can't take it personally. But I still feel badly for the people who planned this picnic, who came out in hope of better weather and a better time, or who didn't come out at all because, unlike me, they were smart enough to glance at the weather forecast first, or at least knew enough to get out of the rain.
The next morning, at church, I see many of these same faces there to help make the coffee and to set up for worship, to greet visitors ass they arrive, and hand out the Order of Service at the door, or singing in the "pick-up" choir which miraculously seems to assemble every week. Over 40 in attendance this past Sunday -- not bad for a congregation which until just recently (and for several centuries previously) shut its doors entirely from the middle of June until the first Sunday after Labor Day. And many still need that summer hiatus, so that they might return to our annual Ingathering Ceremony in the fall feeling refreshed and energized, eager to see their friends again and bearing water from whatever exotic destination their summer vacation may have taken them to.
But some of us will just have to settle for wringing the moisture out of our First Parish banner, before safely hanging it up to dry in anticipation of that first "real" Sunday in September.
3 comments:
Hi Tim!
It's Richard Wolfe (Janet Puistonen's worse half).
I've read several of your posts, and, especially with the Adams and Jefferson one, tried to think of a way to carry on the intellectual discussion (in that instance, my basis being New Yorker excerpts from "A Magnificent Catastrophe: The Tumultuous Election of 1800, America's First Presidential Campaign") but the chemistry to chime in just didn't click with me.
But, seeing the kids holding the banner in this post, I realized that reading your posts is doing me some good, and that that was reason enough to write to you and communicate my gratitude.
I think of myself as not just a lapsed UU but a former UU, yet with a spouse who is definitely still in the fold.
I am still in the fold philosophically (except as regards the strain of the faith that vigilantly guards against proselytizing) but have foresworn my FP membership because, in light of my family's circumstances, I cannot justify taking time out for anything that is not directed at finding a way to earn income, even churchgoing.
I realize that what I have said in the foregoing paragraph is provocative, and I heartily encourage you to respond to it.
I think that the reason I've been reading your posts but not contributing is that they already say it all: like the one about the old man / grandfather and the boy.
But I would like to say that, in terms of community, I am with you, whether or not I attend on Sundays in the summer (or fall, or winter, or spring) and whether or not I call myself a UU.
I am with you, and I will be reading your posts, and I appreciate every word you have to say.
Best regards,
Richard Wolfe
I sit here with my head hung in shame. I had every intention of going to the picnic but the thought of dragging my whining children (Do we have to go???) to Deering Oaks in the rain and then cruising the area for a handicap space so that I would not have to hobble too far convinced me to stay home.
I wish I had made the effort.
A true Seattle-style picnic!
Thank you for commemorating it with your fine words.
Val C.
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