Daddy used to get up early on Sunday morning and get ready early. With us four girls and Mom, he knew he wouldn’t get a chance to be in the (only) bathroom after we got up. He would make sure we were awake, and then retreat to the kitchen where he would drink his coffee and read his Bible. He would look over the sermons he had prepared for the day. Finally when we were all ready, we would load up and go on over to Hurts Creek for worship. The church building was one that Daddy had built, that sat beside a steep curve, and at the mouth of Flacky. It sits there still. Daddy has been gone nearly 20 years now, but in my mind, I can still see him sitting there at the kitchen table drinking his cup of black coffee with the Bible opened beside him.
*Vickie*
