'CHURCH MICE'

          Now, back in the day, when we were growin’ up, me and my brother Terry weren’t allowed to take toys to church. Yeah, I know… nowadays, folks don’t think nothin’ about it, but back then, it just wasn’t allowed… especially for us, the children of the church’s Minister of Music and Youth. So, it ought to go without sayin’ that the Sunday mornin’ we did decide to break that rule stands out as a most memorable one, for sure.

          The day before, while over in nearby Meridian, Daddy had bought us a couple of realistic-lookin’ mice made out of rabbit fur. We loved ‘em. They were so life-like, right up a couple of 9 and 11-year-old boys’ alley, and the following mornin’, into our dress pants pockets them li’l mice went, church-bound.

          Now, at that time, in the Southern Baptist churches that we grew up in, the fifteen minutes between when Sunday school lets out and the church service starts, as the congregation filed in and made their way to their seats, folks would quietly visit with one another. Well, back over ‘bout midways back on the right side of the church is where our friend Beth Lindley and her folks sat, and me and Terry were in the pew behind her, showin’ off our furry li’l prizes. Now, Beth’s momma was busy visitin’ with the adults in the pew ahead, payin’ the three of us no mind. She should’ve known better. The three of us were always into somethin’. Yeah… you see where this is goin’, right? Like I said… Ms. Lindley was payin’ us no mind at all, even when Beth set one of them furry li’l mice on her dear momma’s shoulder.

Suddenly, the organ sounded, indicatin’ that church was about to start, and that was the Jennings boys’ cue that they’d better be sittin’ up on the front row when their Daddy and the preacher and the choir came out, or they’d be in big trouble. Our fear of not bein’ where we were supposed to be overrode any need whatsoever to have that mouse in-hand, so we left it with her, and made a dash for our seats.

Well, just about that time, Ms. Lindley shifted in her seat, causin’ that li’l ol’ mouse to fall off’n her shoulder and right smack-dab in the middle of her lap. Well, folks… lemme tell ya; she let out a holler that caused everybody in the sanctuary to twist ‘round in their seats

to see what all the commotion was.
            Now, Ms. Lindley, the very quiet and well-reserved lady that she is, quickly regained her composure and sat there all sheepish and red as a beet, embarrassed as all get out for havin’ drawn attention to herself. Yet, there were three in that big ol’ church sanctuary that were not about to turn and look thataway, sittin’ stock-still with eyes-front, visibly shaking with repressed laughter, though; which, was a dead give-away as to whom the three mischievous culprits were.

In walked the preacher and Daddy, followed by the choir, and luckily… Daddy and Momma were none the wiser, for Ms. Lindley was a good sport and after a good laugh, never said a word about it. Plus, thanks to Beth swiftly and deftly catchin’ it up when her momma had thrown it from her lap, we got our mouse back.

So, needless to say… that broke me and Terry from sneakin’ toys into church. That was our one and only time to do that. From then on, we sat our li’l hineys on that front church pew and were quiet as a couple of li’l church mice.

Okay… maybe not THAT quiet, but I think you get what I mean.  J