The Lord's Houses (Part 1)
The manse.
It is supposed to be a sacred place, the church manse, that is. It is a huge, rambling, proud-looking wooden house. But it always looked a little naked. It lost its paint a long time ago, and it reminds me of a mangy dog that lost its hair, weather-beaten and grayish.
I think the Atlantic Ocean breeze gave it a good licking in a fight and took off with parts of its clothes—just like some school girls from the church school would do when they enter a fistfight. But that is a story for another day.
Father Hemmerding.
He is the Anglican priest who lives in the old manse on the church grounds, not far from the burial ground. Father Hemerding holds church services, funerals, and harvest festivals at the church. He also lectures wayward boys who are too much for their mothers to handle. He is known to help haul the boys out from among the tombs when they are “skulking.” That is the word we use for truancy.
Those boys stand no more than the height of “Fadda” little round belly, poking out just below his long black robes, to take the scolding.
Some people say “Fadda” threatens to beat the boys with a belt, and some claim that it absolutely happens. They get a licking!
I don’t know for sure. He doesn’t look strict. He has a jolly laugh and a kind face.
My closest encounter with Fadda Hemmerding is when I hand over the gift my mother gave me at harvest time, and that is enough for me. I do not attend his church; I only attend the church school turned government school.
The Harvest
At harvest time, all the children must take something to the church. We bring our gifts with great excitement to school. After lunchtime, the teachers line us up by classes, and we march as a procession of navy blue-uniformed soldiers to the church. Some of us have food items like bread and produce like mangoes, sorrel, and pigeon peas.
I took what my mother made—handmade—to the house of the Lord that Fadda governed. The tables would soon turn, but I didn’t know before April 10, 1973.