I Was Saved

When I went to church with Grandpa and Grandma Baker in West Virginia, I was usually a good little girl, but not always. I knew what being naughty would earn me. They would take me outside and whip me with a little, keen switch if I misbehaved. Although I didn't always understand everything as a small child, I loved singing. Someone once laughed a little and said I was the loudest singer in church. I was so proud, I thought it was a compliment. Once, after we got home, Grandma told me I had misunderstood what some of the words were to one of the songs we were singing. She told me the words were "It's a grand and glorious feeling," not a 'Granddaddy glorious feeling." I was embarrassed. I don't think I sang quite as loudly anymore. At a lot of our services, we would sing a song, while we walked through the church shaking everyone's hand. I liked that. I knew just about everyone there. Before we had prayer, we were always ask if we had any prayer requests. Grandma almost always stood up and talked about her children and grandchildren who were lost. She would often cry. I knew that being lost was a terrible thing, and that lost people would go to hell and burn forever. When we prayed at our church, many of the members would kneel down in front of their pews and pray. I liked that. Some would go up and pray at the alter. Everyone prayed their own prayer to the Lord in their own words. Most prayed out loud, some quietly, some loudly. Some prayed joyfully, while some cried as the prayed. Prayer was a rather noisy time, but everyone there prayed with their whole heart. At some meetings, people would be ask if they would like to give testimonies. Sometimes people laughed, cried, or rejoiced. I remember one older lady, Aunt Pearl, would start rejoicing. She had a stiff back, and had trouble getting around. When Aunt Pearl got into the spirit, she would shout, and sometimes jump around a little. Once she was telling how she was ready to just fly up to Heaven. She was jumping and flapping her arms and shouting. I was still rather little, and couldn't help but think it was a bit funny. I would never have thought about making fun of her or hurting her feelings, not on purpose. I got up behind her and started doing what she was doing. I was little, and she was big. I didn't think anyone would see me. Boy, was I wrong! My Grandpa Baker saw me, and we took a little trip outside.

I remember when we were there on Easter. Grandma Baker made Easter bonnets for my sister, Sharon, and me. She would take plastic jugs, cut off the tops, and help us make Easter baskets. She kept the plastic grass from year to year, and lined our baskets. Grandma boiled and colored a lot of eggs. Some she didn't have to color. The chickens laid some that looked blue, some green or aqua, some looked sort of pink, and some were in different shades of orange. She also boiled and colored a few goose eggs. They would just about fill up her big picnic basket. We got up on Easter Sunday, ate breakfast, and went to church. There was no talk of Easter bunnies. We all knew why we celebrated Easter. We all knew that Jesus died on the cross to save us from our sins and rose again after three days. After church, Grandpa and the other men, hid the eggs outside, then turned us all loose to hunt. We got to take home whatever eggs we found. Anyone that found a goose egg received a small money prize, probably less than a dollar. Money went a lot farther those days, and kids didn't expect as much. Daddy built us a little house just down the road from Grandpa and Grandma Baker. He hired a local carpenter to help build the frame. Grandpa helped him build the rest of the house. Neighbors would stop by from time to time, grab a hammer, and help. Sharon and I helped some, too. After the house was built, we moved in. Daddy still worked in Ohio, but he came home on weekends and holidays. Mom started going to church. She was baptized by my too favorite preachers, Brother Carl Adkins and Brother Argie Davis. They were Grandpa Baker's cousins. I loved going to church on Sundays, Wednesday night prayer meetings, and to revivals. I liked when we visited other churches. My favorite services were homecomings. We would have church and Sunday School first. When we broke for lunch, there were a lot of tables pushed together outside, covered with almost any kind of food a kid could want. I always ate a lot of fried chicken, dressed eggs, green beans, tomatoes, and corn on the cob. I then would over stuff myself on cakes, puddings, fruits, and pies. After lunch we went back inside for a few more hours of preaching and singing. Once, when I was nine years old, my sister and I were once more living with Grandpa and Grandma Baker. They were having a homecoming at the log church over on Beech Fork of Four Mile Creek. At sometime that afternoon, something they were preaching touched my heart in a way I had never felt before. I thought about it until we got home. I wish I could remember what it was, but my memories are fading. I talked to Grandma about it. We talked a long time. I told her I had been saved and wanted to be baptized. I wanted Brother Carl and Brother Argie to baptize me like they had Mom. We went one day, soon after that, and talked to Brother Argie. He ask me a lot of questions, but once we were done talking, he agreed to baptize me, and we set the date for it. Brother Carl lived in Ohio and couldn't be there. On the appointed day a large group of us met by a big hole of water in the creek, over on Ten Mile Creek. I had on a pretty dress. We went in someone's house and Grandma pinned my dress between my legs, so it wouldn't float up. Brother Argie baptized me while they sang "Shall We Gather at the River." I can't say I have always been a faithful follower of Christ, since the age of nine, but I have always been a true believer. I have always prayed, and have had my prayers answered. No matter how far I have strayed I have always found my way back.