Preacher's Piece

As a child, my parents rarely missed taking me and my siblings to church on Sunday morning. By rarely, I mean, I don’t recall ever missing a single Sunday. We always dressed up in our Sunday best which meant our shoes were polished on Saturday night, mom laid out our clothes for Sunday morning, and after chores, we jumped into our best duds and rushed off to church in our family station wagon. On Easter, we dressed just a little nicer with perhaps a new pair of socks or a necktie. There’s a family at Martintown who has two little boys and a little girl. I’m not sure if it’s their mo...