PEOPLE'S HOME MISSION

It is quiet here at the homeplace. Steve had to leave early, before 5:00. So he is gone, the dogs out and back in without much drama. They have gone back to sleep. Until these two I never realized just how much dogs sleep. Now I know where the saying comes from, "Let sleeping dogs lie." Because that is what they do. At least our two.

I'd like to tell you about a little church here in Joplin. It stands on a alley between Grand and Kentucky on 9th street. In the forties there was a woman named Mrs.Wiles. She owned a pie shop off 20th street and also a house at 7th and Pennslyvana. It was a two story house that sat on a corner. Mrs. Wiles decied this part of town needed a Sunday school for the many children in this area and there was no church. She started one in her house. We moved to Joplin in 1944, when I was three. Mrs. Wiles canvassed the neighborhood, knocked on our door and asked Mom to bring us three and come. We did. The little Sunday school grew fast and in 1946 Mrs.Wiled bought land at the corner of 9th and Kentucky, right across from where we lived. She had the top of her house removed, the downstairs moved onto the corner and had a little church built on the alley. It stands today looking the same as it did the first day we had chuch in it, on a Sunday in 1946. There was one small addition built onto the back of the building in the sixties, but not much, just a small extension on to the platform. Back in the then that small church would pack them in. It was nothing to have close to 100 in Sunday school. It was built to be a Mission. It was a poor neighborhood, many children. Four blocks up the street at ninth and main were many taverns. It was nothing to have a Sunday night service and some old drunk would wander in. squeezing into a pew. Not smelling too good, but he was never turned away. Sitting in his slected seat, sometimes he would doze. Nobody was ever asked to leave. Everyone shook his hand afer service. A little Mission built for service to the people.

I have so many memories of that little church. Good memories. For most of those years my Mother was the song leader. Did I ever tell you my Mom had a beautiful voice, well she did. But being song leader she always put on the Christmas play. We were a small church but always had a wonderful Christmas play. Children recited poems, there was special singing, Then the big final. The nativity scence. Oh I loved that ending. First Mary nd Joesph came down the asile,both in their bathrobes, up onto the stage they would go, A sad inn keeper sayed loudly "No room in the inn." Then the little home-made curtain would close. It opened quickly again, there the humble couple stood, well Joesph stood, Mary kneeling. A bale of hay strewn across the floor. A doll laid in the center of the hay. Then the front foor would burst open again. Here comes two shephards, then three wisemen. All in their bathrobes, the Kings with paper crowns on their heads. Then a angel would step from behind the surtain, step up on a stool behind Mary and announce Jesus had been born. Oh I loved that play, I wanted to be in it, badly. Mother being the director of this extravaganza, she was the one to go to. At twelve I begged to be in the play. "Please Momma," I pleaded. "Let me be the angel." I was tall for my age, so finally she gave in. I was thrilled. This friends was my big chance. I was going to be on the stage. I would perform Just like all those people that I saw on Saturdays in the musicals. I praticed, over and over. I climbed upon that stool behind Mary , threw out my arms and annouced my lines.

I was most thrilled by the fact I was wearing a real costume. Which consisted of a white sheet, with slits in it for your arms to go through And there was wings. Have you any idea how much I was thrilled over those wings. Mother made them from white poster board, carefully tracing the wings on two seperate pieces. They were tied together, then shiny tinsel glued on the sides. "Wow,! The halo was made from a bent and twisted metal coat hanger, tinsel was glued to the edges of that and then attached to the wings.Two old pices of white sheet tied all this around your arms for strap's to keep it on. This was the peak of my life, wings and a halo. It may very well be the closet I ever come to wearing any. The anticapated night came. The little church was packed. I was behind the curtain, my Mother standing along the wall just off the platform. To give the nod for everyone to start, to run everything smoothly. I was giddy with excitement. Here they came, each set of people moving , gliding down the asile. They were all in their places. Time for me, I jolted out from behind the curtain. Yes jolted is a good way to describe it. I stumled over my long sheet. Bravely I regained my composure. I scamperd quickly on to the little stool. Yes I am afraid scampered is the right word here. In the process of scrambling up I fell off. The audinece gasped, my Mother closed her eyes. I valiently jumped back up. By this time the wings had shifted, which meant the halo had shifted. At this time it was pointing somewhere to the west. I tried to adust them but to little advail. But back onto the stool I jumped. By this time the whole audience was in hysterical laughter. I being the brave little actor did not let this deter me. I threw out my arms and in a loud screech I announced,Hark, the baby Jesus has come." Not exactly the right words. My mother looked pale. The Mary shot evil glances at me the rest of the play. Needless to say it was my only shot at being in the main play. my poor Mother, her alien child had done it again.

As I said the church sill stands., after sixty-four years. Different people run it now. But I love to go by it. I do not think as many goes there today as back then. But it still is a small Mission for the people. Back in the day so many groceries were gave away to needy people by people who had very little themselves. There was Bible studies, song conventions, chili suppers. A truly wonderful place. My childhood is sewn up tightly with that little church. I pray it always stands.