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Carol Perkins: Wednesday Afternoons

Previous Column: Austin (The End)

By Carol Perkins

Eight screaming, laughing, yelling children under the age of seven jumped off the church bus that picked them up at school, threw down their backpacks at the front door, and ran through the sanctuary.

"STOP running in the church," a leader said as they slowed to a fast walk.

They were headed to the choir room, where they met every Wednesday after school to sing, eat, and play at the Edmonton Baptist Church.

I had heard about their Wednesdays and prepared a dessert and joined them. Sometimes I need a happy place, and being with kids provides that for me. I sat quietly as our pastor, Brother Steve Sholar, sat at the piano and engaged the children. He did his best to keep them focused and to get them to listen and be still.


After being still at school all day and having to listen, his task was challenging.

The three boys in the back room couldn't be still. Couldn't keep from poking at each other, and when one got up, the other stole his chair. Back and forth they went.

I interrupted. "Boys, pick a seat, sit in it, and keep your hands to yourself," I said in my teacher's voice. I couldn't stand it any longer. That worked for a minute. I didn't scare them.

The girls were more attentive, but wiggly. One sweetie with long hair was braiding a strand or two that was hanging in her face as she listened. The girl on her right saw what she was doing and found a strand of her own and started braiding, as did the girl on the right. The one next to her had short hair, and I almost lost it when she searched for a strand but couldn't find it. They continued to sing.

They were learning new songs but wanted to sing the old ones for the new lady. (Some knew me and some didn't.) They were so good! He had worked miracles!

Next came the most touching moment I've seen in years.

The children gathered around Brother Steve when he said, "Who do you want to pray for today?"

Each one had someone in mind. They were so serious. One little one wanted to pray for her new dog. Another for a man he knew who had lost a friend. I felt like crying as the little ones folded their fingers together and prayed.

Off to the basement for pizza, dessert, and playtime. Out came the pool noodles, and they spent ten minutes hitting each other. I stood in the middle and let him hit me! They were having a great time.

I admire our pastor and the ladies who help him every Wednesday. If you'd like your little one to come, please let me know. Some of these are from other churches. Our doors are open.


Share your thoughts with Carol at carolperkins06@gmail.com, or with CM readers using our Comment Form.


This story was posted on 2026-03-05 11:23:29
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