Vacation Bible School

Last month, my church held its annual Vacation Bible School for the children. That is a tradition in the South. I am not sure how common it is up north.

When I was a youngster I used to enjoy VBS. In my hometown the Methodists and the Presbyterians would hold a joint VBS. One year the event would be held at the Methodist church, then the following year would be hosted by the Presbyterians.

Of course we would be taught Bible stories. Then we would play games outdoors, followed by arts and crafts. My parents still use the trash can I decorated in VBS and the painted pencil holder made of clothes pins.

At the end of the morning, we children were given cookies and punch. One time my mother brought some Hawaiian punch when it was her day to bring refreshments. My friend Elizabeth commented, "This punch tastes awful!" It did. I don't know how that company managed to stay in business. I felt like agreeing with Elizabeth, but I simply couldn't resist telling her my mother made the punch. She turned red, and said, "You know, this punch is starting to taste better."
Diplomacy in the South is definitely a fine art.

When I was a teenager, one of my teachers and fellow church members asked me to draw up a few designs for some simple banners for the children to make at VBS. I think I sketched three or four ideas with simple themes and artwork. Mrs. W. liked the designs, so she purchased material in different colors with lots of bright felt. The children cut out the designs that were predrawn by Mrs. W who faithfully adhered to the sketches that I created. Then the felt pieces were coated with something that would cause them to be permanently applied to the cloth once a hot iron was placed over the felt. When the banners were completed at the end of VBS, the children donated them to the church. Those banners adorned the church walls for a number of years.

In life we like to know that we have left some token or some legacy for others to remember us. The upstairs of my church warehouses a special treasure. In a box tucked carefully away lies a little bit of "immortality" that I helped create many years ago.