I also had wonderful worship in sixth grade, too. We had junior choir on Thursdays after school. This, too, started in third grade. We practiced and performed contemporary songs, like Pass it On, He's Everything to Me, Golden Slippers, Down by the Riverside. Well, contemporary for 1970-75. I love to sing. I'm a chorus singer though. Tried the solo career, but my voice is too weak.
The members that came, also loved to sing. Being a volunteer endeavor helped in the enthusiasm. A fourth grade boy and I were sweet on each other in a very nonsexual way. And he came to the practices, so we got to see each other. We kept up this special friendship, until right before I entered seventh grade. His grandmother and my mother were friends, which was often the case in my friendships. Most mothers were about 12 to 14 years younger than my mother.
I relished this time to sing. The director and piano player were in their late teens or early twenties. Our choir sang once a month. My favorite anthem at the end of sixth grade was on Memorial Day weekend. We combined with the adult choir in the Battle Hymn of the Republic. Shivers up and down my spine, I felt the moment powerful. I still love how the generations worked together for this offering of worship. I think we need more of the intergenerational effort.
As I was thinking of my blog yesterday about Release time, I was also trying to remember positive things, because I never, ever in my rebellion rejected God. I always loved church. I loved to be in His house. I cannot remember my sixth grade Sunday school teacher. Pretty sad, considering I attended at least 50 Sundays that year. Patty Williams got engaged during our fourth grade class, I goggled her ring while she sat at the desk in the corner room. In fifth grade, we had Barb Hettrick and Marilyn Edeburn. Maybe they taught sixth grade, too. I only know my church experience remained positive, even with my worry about my dad and the lack of his presence in church due to his multiple hospitalizations.