Tomorrow is Sunday

Sunday, in our house, was the busiest day of the week. It was not a day of rest. Preparations began on Saturday.

We took our "weekly" bath. Yes, weekly. Oh, we washed our face, necks, ears, and hands throughout the week, but before the sewer system was put in (in the mid-50s) all our waste went into a cesspool, which was located in our back yard. It had to be periodically emptied/pumped out. Anyway, I think that is why we only had a "weekly" bath. Because after we got the sewer system put in, we were allowed to take baths whenever we wanted. Not showers, baths. We didn't have a shower.

Dad had installed a hose onto the faucet so we could have a spray for our hair and I guess if I had been more coordinated perhaps I could have used it as a shower, but I basically just used that hose for washing my hair. Those wonderful hand-held showers we have these days hadn't been invented yet.

Anyway, back to Sunday. And, on Saturday evening the Sunday paper, sans the news section, arrived. If we didn't read the comics on Saturday night, we were not permitted to see them until Monday. I never figured that out. But reading the comics on Sunday was not permitted. Of course, dad had first dibs on all of the paper, then it was a scramble to see who would get the comics first. I usually won out on that score because I was the biggest.

Also, on Saturday evening we had our best meal of the week. It was either roast beef, leg of lamb, or ham (and all the trimmings). Leftovers were expected. Also, on Saturday night, my mother always baked some sort of breakfast cake for Sunday breakfast.

Sunday was church day. We went to Sunday school at 9:45, and then to church at 11:00 a.m., then we would come home and have those leftovers from Saturday night's dinner. Mom did not cook -- or minimally cooked -- on Sunday. On Sunday afternoon we were REQUIRED to REST. When I was little, I don't imagine I liked that too much, since I carried that practice into my own life as an adult and required my own children to rest on Sunday afternoons. But, I certainly did enjoy that Sunday afternoon nap as I got to be a teenager, and then as an adult.

We did not eat dinner before church on Sunday night. Young people's meetings were at 5:30 or we participated in orchestra/quartet/trio practice; and then the evening service was at 7:00 p.m. After church we came home and had "supper" of saltines, cold cuts, and cheese slices, and leftover dessert from the breakfast cake. See, no cooking for mom. We NEVER went to a restaurant -- after I left Runnemede the Sunday "diner" tradition began -- on Sunday.

Most Sunday evenings our "supper" was shared with people either from church or visiting missionaries or speakers. I don't remember many Sunday evenings when we didn't have guests at the table -- at least in my pre-teen years.

It seems when I hit the teenage years so many things changed. I think it was because of TV. When we got a TV -- and we were one of the last families in Runnemede to get one -- so much changed. Whereas we used to watch the radio on Sunday morning -- when daddy would speak at the Sunday Breakfast Association's radio program, or on Sunday night, and I think we "watched" My Little Margie, A Date with Judy, and Our Miss Brooks. You see our imagination was our viewing screen, but I did watch that radio and saw it all.

After TV, though, at least my siblings and I would rush home from church so we could see Ed Sullivan. We hated it when dad would go past 8:00 o'clock. I think sometimes daddy would be long-winded (he was the preacher remember?) on purpose so that we wouldn't be able to watch something we had mentioned earlier in the day.

At 9:00 p.m. we were supposed to be in bed because we had to be in school the next day.

Another oddity about our Sunday...we were never permitted to purchase anything on a Sunday, no matter what. We could not run down to Joe's to get an ice cream cone, nor could we go to the Snow-cone store to get a snow cone. We were not permitted to spend money on Sunday. Of course, until 1966 not many stores were even open on Sunday. It seems the year I married, was the year that stores decided that they would stay open on Sunday. JC Penney was one of the last hold-outs in that regard. Back then Sundays were like the rare holiday now days when the parking lots are vacant, there is little traffic, and life is tranquil and peaceful.

When I get into a traffic jam on the way home from church, I wish for those days again -- the traffic jams are around the restaurants, marts, and grocery stores and are crowded with the after-church crowds.

I think it's nice to give God honor on one day of the week, and if that means not shopping and really resting on that one day, I'm all for it.