Sundays Long Ago
By Don Iannone

Growing up,
Sunday was clearly a day of rest,
when work was completely set aside,
and the spirit was given primacy.
The day started
with Sunday morning church services
and Sunday school.
Our main meal of the day
was in the early afternoon,
leaving room for a leisurely afternoon,
and then Sunday night church services--
at tops a one-hour event,
when the heart was invited to speak
and explore more personally
its relationship to the Holy.
Social gatherings often followed
Sunday night church services,
allowing those sharing worship
to join hands in friendship.
All this was a long time ago--
lost in the shuffle from childhood
to young adulthood.
Spirit joined our family,
both nuclear and extended.
Not always did I agree
with our Bible-thumping minister;
let alone how Mom and Dad chose
to adapt and apply these teachings
to the conduct of the household.
Too strict, I thought,
as a young hellion,
sowing my seeds in long-gone Martins Ferry.
Looking back,
there was more good than bad
to the rhythm and portent
of Sundays in my younger years.
I'm surprised to hear myself say this, but
there comes a time in your life
when equanimity truimphs over differences,
large and small,
that cause civil war within us.
And so,
looking back,
I smile upon the Sundays in my early life,
and give thanks for their rich blessings,
lingering on inside me even now.