I had a birthday on March 9th, turning 85. Sunday, March 10th, the congregation sang happy birthday to me. It was not necessary, but try and argue with over 80 people at worship; one does not stand a chance, so I did not even try.
The singing brought back memories to when I was a child at P.P.C. Some 60 to 80 years ago for Sunday School, everybody met in the sanctuary for about 15 minutes for a song or two, offering was taken, and “ARE THERE ANY BIRTHDAYS?” was asked. We had a carpenter in our church family that made a wood cake with
drilled holes in the top for candles. There was a glass bank about six inches tall to put your pennies in, one for each year of age. The group would sing happy birthday and you would blow out the candles. As a little guy, I remember skipping up to the front for the big occasion.
Each class on a Sunday would have a short program, which usually was a skit by the class members of a Bible story. We were then dismissed to our classes. The class members would all sit together as a group. Our Worship Committee chair person, now Mickey Gilsdorf, was one of my junior high students in the late 1950s and 1960s. Mickey and her sister, Frances, never gave me any trouble. I had a boy that was a trouble maker. His mother was a teacher in another class. I told him if he did not straighten up, he was going to his mother’s class. I did not have anymore trouble. When I was a student, I was always good because my father was the teacher.
My closing thought is behave or else you go to your parent’s class.
Ken Johnson