Last Sunday

Well, the Sunday before yesterday my sister was baptised.

It was a good day. We had about nineteen people (including us) at our house beforehand. I had a bit of a deja vu moment when the first two people arrived; I peered out of the front upstairs window and saw this face peering out of a black car, and thought that I’d been in that situation before. However, I can’t have been because we haven’t seen these people since I was very, very small (although we have seen photos of them, and that enabled me to recognise them). I will note, though, that one of my favorite tricks is to run upstairs and peer down at people who visit our house; it enables one to watch without being nearly as noticeable as one would if he were peering out of the downstairs window.

Anyway, all these extra people ate our bread and cakes. They didn’t eat all the cake, so we had some to take to church and some surplus cake. We’ve eaten the cake surplus now. Some of us may get fat, but then some of us wouldn’t mind becoming a little fatter anyway. None of the cakes were poisonous or otherwise inedible, as the only member of this family to suffer any ill effects was my brother; and he ate four slices of cake, four little cakes, two nectarines, and adequate quantities of crisps. Hopefully he had some bread, too, but I couldn’t guarantee that!

After these people had eaten and mingled with each other, we left for church. This was an interesting feat of organisation; some people had real live human directors, others followed a car with a real live human director, and some people found their own way from our house to the church. Everybody arrived in plenty of time, though.

The sermon was very good. It wasn’t as long as I’d been hoping it would be, but then I’m just an evil monster who would have liked to see my relations who don’t normally go to church have to sit through at least forty minutes of sermon.

My sister and the other person who was baptised both gave their testimonies. My sister really needn’t have been slow to begin hers, as she has a testimony that’s text book in its perfection; it’s exactly what one would expect. And what struck me most about the other person’s testimony was when he said that he used to go to a church where the people were just Christians on Sunday, and the rest of the week they lived and went on with life just like everyone else. He said that was confusing. I think, though, that this is something we all do on occasion. I know I’m guilty of behaving like this sometimes, and it really needs to stop. I don’t want to confuse anyone.

After they gave their testimonies, they were baptised. Separately, both were fully immersed horizontally, from their toes to their nose. They clambered out dripping wet, and they had been baptised!

After the service, there were refreshments. Some one had made a yummy cake with jam and cream in the middle, so I had a piece of that. After the cake, I talked with friends and relations. Someone had brought a baby with them, but I didn’t get to hold him; my sister, however, did, and he screamed his head off because not only could he hear lots of unfamiliar voices, but he wasn’t being held by a familiar person. She gave him back quite quickly, because he can scream very loudly.

Oh, and I’ll note here that my relatives and friends liked my orange hat. No one at church has mentioned it, and that surprises me. It’s a very bright orange, and it’s not the kind of thing you can miss. I like it, because no one can miss the fact that I’m around when I’m wearing a bright orange hat. Also, it strikes me as something that’s down to earth, cheery, and welcoming; and therefore it goes well with the personality that I’d like to have. I do not wear this hat with pink or black, however. I don’t want to wear clashing colours. It gets worn with blue, denim, and beige, but hopefully not all three of these colours at once.

Finally, I have never been baptized. I expect I will be baptized at some point, though.