The Sunday School and Kinder came together, both rejoicing
To celebrate our birthday, the anniversary meeting.
The services were thrice a day and multiplied by two,
‘Cos we did it on two Sundays and were happy so to do.
The girls all dressed in Sunday best, hair brushed to raise a sheen
While boys had suit and shirt and tie, hair slicked with brilliantine.
We sat upon a platform, seats arranged in rising tiers,
Trying not to show our nervousness, excitement or our fears.
A giant , painted sign was displayed above our head,
“We Have Come to Worship Him,” was what its message read.
Mona played the music while our parents sat below
And every face was beaming with a warm and pleasant glow.
Old Ernie Day stood up and smiled, his baton at the ready,
He nodded, and the piano played an introduction steady.
Our angel voices, lifting high, towards the vaulted sky
After long, hard weeks of practice, we fairly let it fly.
There were solos, trios, some quartets, the odd adults performing
The Kindies, Inters and the Seniors kept the program rolling.
The congregation got their chance of singing Hymns of Praise,
To stretch their numbing muscles and let their voices raise.
Each session had its preacher, some were young and some were old,
Gave a fundamental story, carefully planned and lightly told.
They surely had our interest as we dwelt on every word,
You could have heard a pin drop, not a scrape or cough was heard .
I remember Mr Woodman, brought a suitcase quite intriguing,
Which contained some wooden pieces, every one of them revealing.
For each contained a spike, a wire, an axe-head , hub of wheel
Imagine how the sawyer felt when saw met up with steel.
The moral of this story is so very plain to see ,
It applies to every person including you and me.
While it’s what is on the outside that other people view,
The inner things are really those that make YOU what is YOU.