When I was little I sang a song for my mom in the Primary Mothers Day Sacrament Meeting extravaganza. I’m sure you all remember this little ditty:
“I often.. go walking.. in meadows of clooover”
can’t remember the rest of it but the end goes like this
“dear Mother, all flowers, reeemind me of youuuu”
My singing left MUCH to be desired, but I’ve always been a big showoff so I compensated with lots of swagger. My mom still talks about that special sacrament meeting, even now, even with me as an APOSTATE.
One of the few things I miss about being in the church is missing out on Fass ‘n’ Tessamony meeting. And the sacrament. That little thimble of cold water and that tiny bite of white bread was like crack to a child who knows it’s got at least three more hours of church ahead with no food. I think my carb addiction started at sacrament meeting all those years ago. I really do. I remember thinking when I was little that I would keep loaves and loaves of white bread in my house when I grew up so that I could eat as much as I wanted, whenever I wanted.