“Homecoming” Rally

Welcome! With pie! What could be more homey, especially to someone whose parents have passed and kids have scattered?

Sunday’s Rally on the State House Lawn warmed me like going home to family after my first few weeks at UNH, a return to my sanctuary of unconditional acceptance – and homemade goodies. (Doughboy was right: Nuthin’ says loving’ like something from the oven’!) Though I’ve been a member of St. Paul’s for only 5 years, I am increasingly aware that I belong at St. Paul’s as securely as I belonged in my childhood family.

For example,

My family knows my name. Sure, I wear the nametag, but from the get-go folks at St. Paul’s have troubled to learn my name. I matter. Sat Sunday’s rally,  I still quietly thrilled to be checked off  the parish list, to be a “validated” member. A place to belong….

My family needs my skills and talents. By trial and error, I have found arenas for my gifts: my writing, singing, and cooking. And as a wise woman from the Netherlands taught me, you can wash dishes in any language…I grab a dish towel to do my share. Whoever you are…

My family feeds me, calories optional. Not just luscious, creative, pies which demand hours of work, but socially, as well. Smiles. Hugs. Listening ears when things aren’t going so well. My St. Paul’s family nurtures my soul.

My family needs my nurturing, too. Even at our joyous rally, I learned a friend had suffered a wrenching tragedy. I could offer comfort. I could share the love of our community.

Yes, St. Paul’s Sunday rally reminded me how much I cherish my church family – and fabulous pies. Just, please, don’t ask me to bake one. I’d rather do the dishes! ###

 - Gail Schilling