Something Gained

There was a village where only the children remained.
A broken down church, emptied out during the war.
For when the parents were called to go out and fight,
there was no one left to carry on what was there before.
.
At first the church held up quite well.
A season or two it was as if it were the same.
But with no people coming in, and empty pews
There was nothing inside to remain.
.
The first to fall was the suspended cross.
It clattered to the dusty floor.
Eventually it became the home
to a grouse, and a couple of mice, and more.
.
Then the bell fell from it’s rusted cable
and made a gong not heard for years.
A child now hides underneath
When the stormy sky brings out his fear.
.
The door was taken by a few girls who had need.
It was turned into a table where they learned
to bake bread with the gleanings of wheat,
and from the one cow, butter to churn.
.
The offertory plates became the dishes
Passed around the table door.
Serving all the kids who remained,
Allowing them all to eat together more.
.
And they became a family, these children.
And called everywhere and everyone home.
Except for the broken-down church where
their parent’s God was known to roam.
.
And they remembered God,
but not the one of their parent’s lore.
But the one who kneaded bread
together on the church door.
.
And the one who hid with the scared boy
together under that old but safe bell.
And they loved that God who was alongside;
who accompanied every one of them all the more.
.
For it was never about the God who lived
Only in their parents church building and steeple.
But it was the God that lived everywhere
With and among and alongside all the people.