The baptismal in Uncle Sam’s pasture
The hogs had been bathing there.
My closest neighbors and playmates were Dorothy, Beverly, Julie, Rachel and Jennie, all sisters. Our ages ranged from 13 to 3.
One year, we had recently had our annual revival and baptismal at Long Branch Baptist Church. On a Saturday afternoon while we were playing, we decided not to go to church the next morning. We were going to have our own church service.
Across the road were Uncle Sam’s pastures. There were cows, mules, hogs and geese over there. A huge muddy ditch ran about in the center of it. At one area, there was a wide circle of water covered with red, yellow and green maple fall leaves. Possibly this spot became larger because the animals had been drinking and the hogs had been bathing there.
We had taken along a Bible and some old church hymnal. I was the designated preacher. I do not remember which scripture I read, but I talked to them about their souls. They all pretended to cry and decided to join our church. We sang “Shall We Gather at the River” and “Where He Leads Me.”
At this point, we decided to have our baptismal service. I led all of them into the two feet deep ditch. Beginning with the oldest, I held their noses and submersed them backward beneath the beautiful floating leaves, saying, “I baptize my sister in the name of the father, son and the holy spirit! Amen.” (The youngest declined.)
We went back to the house, dripping muddy wet with maple leaves stuck on our hair and clothes. Jennie was the first to approach her mother and said, “Essa-lene baptized my sissas.” She laughed so very hard. I was a little apprehensive, because I was afraid I would lose my pastoral right.
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