Sunday Dinner

Today was World Communion Sunday, so the Minister’s sermon was entitled, Sunday Dinner.” He reminisced about when he was a boy in Arcadia, Florida, and how he looked forward to Sunday dinner. This was the second time recently I was reminded about Sunday dinner’s when I was growing up. Like Dr. Rabb, that too is one of my favorite memories.

The first reminder was at one of our many Sunday dinners at our friends’ Jeff and Mike. We seem to wind up having dinner over there often on Sunday afternoons. Its always fun. Most of the time Mike cooks, and the food is always good, and then we usually play a game of cards, typically “Shanghai.”

Several weeks ago, a friend of theirs, B.R., cooked for us. B.R. had set the table with some of those old-fashioned metal tumblers. They belonged to Jeff’s mother I believe. They’re tall, and have a lip that flairs out. It reminded me of Sunday Dinner at Grandmothers, because she had a set of those. I wish I had them today. I’d forgotten how cold those glasses make the drink.

I remember the many Sunday’s we would go over to Patterson Springs (very small community outside of Shelby, N.C.), for dinner at Grandmothers. What great fun. They lived in a big old Victorian style house, and we’d have Sunday dinner in the formal dinning room around the big table. The menu varied, but, like Dr. Rabb, I remember lots of fried chicken, and there were always Grandmother’s homemade biscuits.

Because my grandparents lived on a farm, there were always lots of things for a kid like me to get into. Rummaging around in the old barn and the various sheds, and climbing on the farm equiment could always occupy a big chunk of a Sunday afternoon.

And in a small farming community like Patterson Springs, Sunday afternoons were a time for “visiting.” Aunts and Uncles and cousins, and all sorts of people were apt to stop by to while away some time on the big screened in front porch. I can’t start to guess at how many hours I spent in that old green porch swing, and I think the big green rocking chairs must have had 100 coats of paint of them.

There was the big front yard with some huge pecan trees, and train tracks that ran through the “railroad cut” right in front of the house. Always good for a squashed penny or two. You Lay them on tracks, and the rain would flatten them and make them oblong. Nowadays, you have to pay fifty cents to get them out of a machine at tourist spots. We got them for free.

Then, as the afternoon wore on, Grandmother and Mom would bring out the iced tea (sweet of course), and serve it in those metal glasses on the porch. I think those times will always be some of the best memories of my life. Today our families are all so scattered that I’m afraid a lot of children don’t get to create those memories, but I’m sure glad I have mine, and I hope other families will use Sunday afternoon’s to create some of their own warm memories.