The Words of the Powell Family
I'm the only one out of my siblings who has been able to out run our father. One Sunday morning on our way to church my father and I were having a race and I was trailing behind, not far, but in an attempt to win I overtook him and kept my eyes firmly on my father as I sped past. Unusually though, as I was taking the lead, he shouted a warning at me to look ahead and my older brother started shouting too. They were trying to warn me about a concrete lamppost that was in my way but when I looked up it seemed too distant to be of any concern to me so I just ran faster in an attempt to make sure I won. My father shouted again, pleadingly, yet when I looked up the second time I was too close to move out of the way and I unwittingly, violently, painfully collided with the lamppost, headbutting it at full speed and was immediately sprawled out on the grass over covered in blood.
My father helped me up but I was adamant to walk by myself. He took me to the nearby houses because he wanted to get some help for me. Inside the house with the first door that opened was a dog and I told my father I didn't want to go in because they had a dog. I found my father's reaction to my statement quite comical, he was perplexed that I was more concerned about a dog than I was for my head. For my father it was most important that I get some medical attention but I had no desire to share any space with a dog in that time. The only reason I eventually went in was because I could see that my father cared more about me than I was afraid of the dog, so I went in to please my father, otherwise I would've just gone home.
At our church our pastor would often unlock the main doors while he went to the shops to buy refreshments for the congregation to enjoy after the service. He did this so we could go in and wait for him indoors until he returned, which everyone thought was very nice and trusting of him. I had a really funny idea one Sunday to hide in the pulpit and wait for the pastor to return and then jump out on him as he came up the steps to the pulpit to give the sermon. My mother was dead against it and kept asking to not to do it. I told my mother it'll be alright and that the pastor will have a sense of humour, which I was so sure he would.
The pulpit was raised on a block about my height and had solid wooden walls in a circle with a gate and steps leading up to it. I walked up the steps, all the while with my mother desperately asking me to get down from there, and then I opened the gate to the pulpit. I was really looking forward to jumping out on the pastor and was anticipating in advance the big surprise I'd give him, I was already laughing just from the thought of it but to my total surprise, when I put my hand on the gate and began opening it, the pastor jumped out on me! What?!
The pastor hid in the pulpit to jump out on me! I was so suprised that I nearly fell down the steps. I must have done it before because I couldn't see him when we came in which meant that he was already hiding. I loved that so much and I laughed so hard. My father and mother and siblings, as well as the other members of the congregation who had arrived, were laughing too. It was such a jubilant and happy experience that made me love going to church.