Back in the 50’s Sunday was a time for worship and a big home cooked dinner. My parents taught us that God loved us and we should love Him enough to attend church and give him our praise. Everyone was expected to go to church unless you were vomiting or running a fever of 104. The men wore their suits, ties and dress shoes. The mother and kids wore their Sunday Go To Meeting dresses and dress shoes. We dressed in our best to show respect for the church and to God.
There were no restaurants nearby and every family usually had a big Sunday dinner. My mom would do some of the cooking on Saturday and put some of the kettles on before we went to church. I can almost smell the fried chicken, fresh green beans, real mashed potatoes, homemade rolls, chicken gravy, homemade rolls, ice tea and German Chocolate Cake. The other memorable meal was pot roast with potatoes, carrots and large noodles.
Rev. Stone and his wife lived some distance away and my parents invited them to eat dinner with us and stay the afternoon. Sometime they would come on Saturday evening and spend the night. Rev. Stone was a short chubby little man and I always loved having he and his wife spend time at our house. He loved my mothers cooking and she felt good in showing them hospitality.
In the 50’s I had no idea that I would marry a minister and we would be still married today after 46 years. The hospitality that my parents showed to other ministers and missionaries from foreign countries made a deep impression on me. Most ministers and their family have a “Martha and Mary House” where they can feel like family, kick off their shoes, get a good meal and take a nap.
I would love to experience another meal that my mom cooked. All I have are the memories and they are precious.