Camilla Leads the Way

Some months ago Betsy and I traveled to California to keep our grandchildren overnight for our (and their) first time.  We made it through Saturday without any traumatic events, except for five year old Camilla's disappointment that I did not know where Fairyland Park (or some similarly named place) was.  Instead, we walked to the park across the street, a mediocre compromise at best.

On Sunday morning we started the routine of breakfast, getting dressed, and off to church with a fairly indifferent and shall we say "unhurried"one year old grandson Robin, and a now-missing-her-parents five year old Camilla.

It should come as no surprise that we were late for Church.  And I should have known that five year olds don't always give the best directions, as in "turn that way back there!"

We rushed into the Church, tossed Robin into the arms of someone we had never seen but who appeared to recongize him, then entered the sanctuary.  The first hymn was being sung, and Grandpop spied a nice open pew about midway down.   Leading the way, I felt this tug at my leg and and a very disgruntled granddaughter pointing the way back.   After what seemed to be a tug of war in the middle of the Church aisle, Abuela, as Betsy is called, said something vaguely like, "Dummy, she wants to sit in the balcony!"  I'm sure she didn't call me dummy, but both her face and Camilla's expression seemed to indicate as much.

By the time we reached the last seats on the last row of the balcony, the hymn and welcome were complete and we sank into the hard pews (no cushions in the balcony) to relax from our grand processional.  About that time the pastor said, "Now children, please come forward for the children's sermon."  Camilla calmly and slowly edged her way out of the pew, down the narrow stairway, and down the aisle to make it almost in time for the beginning of the children's sermon.

"Hi Camilla," the pastor said, "you must be with grandparents today!"  Camilla nodded indifferently.  I squirmmed wondering if we had forgotten her socks or ignored some essential aspect of grooming.  But since my son is his associate pastor, I concluded hopefully that it was merely the previous knowledge of his schedule. 

After the children's sermon it was announced that it was the first day of the new schedule and children were dismissed to another place for the extended session.  Camilla was thoughtful to spot us in the balcony, wave broadly at us from the chancel in front of several hundred people, point toward the room they were going, and silently mouth "I'm going with them!"

Meanwhile, Abuela and Grandpop sat propped on the last row of the balcony like wall flowers at their first prom.  After the worship, one lonely soul about our age greeted us with the explanation of her balcony dwelling:   "I still sit up here in the balcony.  It's where we always sat with the children and now it makes me feel good as I remember those days when the kids were small."

I guess that's one reason why I'm a balcony person at Church.  It reminds me, too, of  when I sat with my granddaughter in the balcony--if only for about two minutes!