The Old Church Door

I’m a wanderer. One of the things I enjoy the most is a day without purpose, without weights and worries to simply roam wherever the road takes me.

One such day, in the late afternoon when the sun casts that amber hue that always takes me back to some sentimental place, we found our way to a church.  St. Marys church, tucked away in the country, high upon a hill overlooking river and valleys.                                     Completely alone, we quietly strolled between the stones in the old church yard, reading the ancient names and dates then wandered to the church.  As we approached the heavy wooden door, I couldn’t help but recall the song my mother sang to me as a child and her mother before her…”Two little children, a boy and a girl, sat down by the old church door….”                                                                                  I tried the handle and with slight surprise, it swung open with ease and again I was taken back to the days when church doors were always left open, day and night to offer refuge to the weary.  There’s something almost sacred about stepping through that door, into an empty sanctuary, as if walking on Holy ground.  Inside, uncommon silence in a usual hectic, roaring world and the waning sun shown through stained glass inspired an inner calm like whispered prayers and I left my cares, weights and worries at the old church door.

P.S The song I mentioned above….A sad song really. Two newly orphaned children, having no place to go, sit at the old church door and during the night die in the cold . Right now I’m thinking…..”WHAT THE HELL?”  were they thinking, singing this to a child, but that’s a phone call  I need to make to my mother and another blog post.


©Laura M. Bailey, All the shoes I wear & writing down the Bones, 1990–Present. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Laura M. Bailey with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.


    • It inspires my wonder…if a building could absorb the things within, imagine a church that’s stood a hundred years….The wood and stone, filled with hope, whose pews heard infinite prayers and rafters filled with music.

      Liked by 1 person

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