6.2 ARJ turned to look at the sanctuary and his jaw nearly dropped...

Wichita, Kansas - Spring 1874

Early Sunday morning, the family rose early, donned their best clothes, and rode to town. They met several other families seemingly heading to the same place.

“What did you call the bricks they made the church from?” ARJ asked as they arrived. “Adobe.” Dad answered as he hopped from the wagon and secured the team. He helped them out of the wagon, and they stood looking at St. John’s Episcopalian Church, illuminated in the early morning light.

Vertical wooden planks covered much of the outside walls of the building. ARJ could tell they were attached but they had the appearance of
leaning against the sides of the church. He noticed a narrow wooden cross above the door at one end of the building. Two high windows on one side were propped open.

“The roof reminds me of the prairie land we rode over on our way to Wichita.” ARJ observed quietly.

JW agreed. “It looks like grass was growing on it but now it’s all brown and dead. Look at those tall, empty stalks sticking up from the roof.”

“Sunflowers. They’re dead now. I see a bit of green grass up there, though, and a few little flowers. Maybe it’ll look better this spring.”

JW nodded. “I wonder why the roof is grass.”

ARJ shrugged. “It isn’t a normal church roof, and it isn’t thatching… so…”

Mum shushed them. “Boys, remember we’re at church. Watch your behavior.”

“Sorry, Mum.” ARJ looked at her and then his brother.

‘If this is what the outside looks like, I wonder what we’ll find on the inside.’ he wondered silently.

An organ suddenly wheezed out the starting notes of a hymn from inside the church. Mum rushed the boys toward the door. A smiling man in a black robe greeted them.

“Good morning! It’s good you’ve joined us today.” He said, over the organ music, as he held out his hand. Dad shifted Eva Anna to his other arm and shook the Reverend’s hand.

“I’m Reverend Hilton. Please come in and find a seat.” He seemed like a kind man.

JW tugged on his brother’s sleeve. ARJ turned to look at the sanctuary and his jaw nearly dropped as he took in the sight. Dad was right. The walls were made of mud bricks. The floor was dirt, also, and long rough wooden benches filled much of the single room. Two windows, the ones they had seen from the outside, were the only sources of light in the whole structure. Sunshine gleamed through, descending on the parishioners inside. A man directed them to an empty bench near the back and they sat down.

At the far end of the room, stood a simple podium and to the right of it, a man pumped a small organ with his feet, finding the chords with his fingers. He played a piece ARJ didn’t recognize. As the organist finished the last chord, the reverend made his way to the podium welcoming the congregation and offering a prayer. Then, from the back of the sanctuary, a short line of robed men walked to the front and stood in a row. They opened the black folders they were carrying. ARJ watched as they positioned sheets of paper on the folders and waited for the Reverend’s signal.

A wheeze and thump from the foot pedals indicated music was coming. The organist began to play a hymn ARJ recognized. The congregation stood and joined the choir in song.

The church's one Foundation is Jesus Christ her Lord;
she is His new creation, by water and the Word;
from Heav'n He came and sought her to be His holy bride;
with His own blood He bought her, and for her life He died.

ARJ closed his eyes as he sang along, listening to the harmony carried by the men in the choir. Except for the earthy smell, and the difference in sound of the little pump organ from the big pipe organs in England, he could almost imagine being back in church in Ryde.

As they were walking out of the church, Dad stopped to shake hands with a man. They stood and talked for a minute.