Grandmama was a woman of profound faith. If the church door cracked open, she was there. If we spent Saturday night at her house, we got up on Sunday and went to Sunday School at the Baptist church. Then services at 11 a.m., usually at the Baptists, but if the Methodists were meeting we’d walk across the shared gravel parking lot and go to their service. They only had services every other week. Some days, we’d do the triple pray: Sunday School at the Baptist church, 11 o’clock service at the Methodists, then late service at the Primitive Baptists. On those days, she’d take along an afghan so I could take a nap on the hard wood pews.
What I’m saying is, she LOVED her some church.
One peaceful Sunday afternoon, some missionary types knocked on her front door. Grandmama Eunice opened the door and greeted them through the screen. They said, “Afternoon, ma’am. We’d like to talk to you about Jesus.”
She said, “What would you like to know?”