Entry 7 - Sticks and Stones

I was on my way to East London with the elders. It was another boiling hot day so a short sleeved shirt was a necessity. I didn't mind wearing a shirt and tie on a Sunday, even though I had to do that Monday to Friday at school, I was getting used to it by now. Although this was my first church visit on my own , I wasn't alone in the back seat of the car. Paul Meiring was also present. It seems that the bug he had caught earlier in the week, he had now passed onto his Mum and she wouldn't be attending church. Paul was a nice enough lad, but he always reminded me of a younger brother. He was only a year younger , so either he was immature for his age or I was too grown up, I wasn't sure at the time which. We really didn't have much in common, he spoke about rugby and The A Team and neither really interested me. I was polite though and with Elders Finchley and Crane adding to the conversation, everything was fine.

I spoke a lot about Formula 1, which was my "rugby". The new season was going to be brilliant and I was already getting excited. My " hero" was Nelson Piquet and I had a whole wall in my bedroom of pictures dedicated to him and his car. This used to cause a bit of friction between myself and my folks. You see, being English, it was the done thing to support "your own". Both my Mum and Dad were big Mansell supporters, to make matters worse, Piquet and Mansell drove for the same team. The previous season was a close run thing between the two and Prost, who went onto win the championship. Mansell outscored Piquet by a point though, and I didn't like that much. I was itching for Piquet to win it this year and shut my Mum and Dad up. My Dad said I only supported Piquet to be awkward and argumentative. Not true, even though it' s not cool for 14 year olds to like the same things as your folks, that was not the reason. I liked him for a number of reasons, he was fast but smart, he came in for a lot of criticism from the English commentators, who were biased towards Mansell and I admired the way he ignored all of that and just gone on with. He was clever. He was funny, a real personality and sometimes a bit of a loose cannon, I loved that about him. I had started to get my friends into Formula 1 also, none of them supported Piquet, which was fine by me, I liked it that way.

Getting back to the trip to East London, I spent most of it talking about all of the above. The elders didn't really seem to follow motor racing , but knew enough about it to hold a conversation, Paul was totally obvlivious to it , but I figured I had heard enough about rugby so it was time to talk my sport. We didn't actually discuss anything with a religious theme at all, which was nice. I sort of showed me that the elders had another side to them, away from the missionaries that they were, they were young men and had interests and personalities of their own. I liked that about them, even though they said they hoped Mansell would win this year because he was unlucky last year!

We arrived at the church quite early, about 15 minutes to spare. I was greeted outside the church by Brother Charles and Sister Judy Howard. Brother Charles was his usual bubbly self and he said he was sorry that my Mum wouldn't be attending. I think he really meant that too and was not just being polite. I spoke with Sarah Howard too, she wanted to know if I enjoyed the youth meeting on Wednesday, I told her I had and that I spoke to her brother Grant quite a bit too. Sarah said that Grant was very pleased I had attended. Sarah was very down to earth, just like her Dad and Mum. In fact I liked the whole Howard family, Charles Jr was a bit of a character too, very dry sense of humour.

Meanwhile Elder Jackson was creating quite a stir outside with the ladies. Carol Sternburg looked very impressed with him and whatever story he was telling, she was having a good laugh, I looked on in amusement. Rachel Gorman arrived and Elder Finchley went over to greet her and her young son. Sarah Howard asked if I would like to sit with her and her family today, I was pleased she had and I said yes. It made me feel less like being on my own. You see, people thought I was strong willed and very independent for a 14 year old, perhaps that was true, but there was a part of it that was an act. A huge part of me felt very nervous, I tried not to let it show, but I was.

I sat with the Howard family and Elder Crane for the main service, Finchley sat with Rachel Gorman. The service was nice, Bishop Robertson was a very eloquent speaker, friendly and sincere. I enjoyed his services. The messages were always logical to me. Grant Howard also gave a short talk as well and he was as always fascinating to listen to. Perhaps I should elaborate more on the religions details of the service, bit in truth, at this point of my visits, the religious aspects were not that important to me, so much of it escapes me. I didn't have any emotional turmoil of whether I believed in the Book of Mormon of the practices of the church, I was happy to accept what I was told. Don't get me wrong, I had a few small issues that perhaps didn't sit well, but on the whole, I was happy and content to take on board what I was told. At the time, I didn't' realise why or even see I was doing that, but I was 14. At 14, your role is to take on board what adults tell you and learn it, that's' what I had to do every day at school, sometimes I had to do that at home too, so it seemed like taking on another lesson. I was very capable of questioning things though, and in time, I would, but for the moment, what was more important as I have said before was how the people and the atmosphere sat with me and if I felt comfortable and a part of something...and I did. Today though was the service I took sacrament. Non members do not partake normally, but I was passed the silver tray with the broken bread , and I decided to partake. Likewise with the water. After the service, Grant explained the significance of the sacrament, the partaking of the body and blood of Christ with the bread and water symbolises, but it also held a deeper relevance, the fact that this was a almost a renewal of the vows made at baptism and a re-commitment to Jesus Christ. He explained to me that as a non member it was fine for me to partake, but it had no significance in terms of a renewal of any vows, as I had not made those vows yet. But I had partaken the body and blood of Christ. This seemed a logical explanation to me and Grant seemed happy enough that I had partaken.

My only " gripe " with the service was the noise. We were sitting half way down the chapel and at times I could hear giggling and carrying on from the back row. When the service ended, I turned round to see who was on the back row and unsurprisingly, Craig Hindley rose up. More surprising was he fact that he was with Simon and Carla Robertson, children of the man trying to speak in the service. I thought it was a little bit rude. As we moved outside before Sunday school , I spoke with Sarah Howard. She was someone I found "nice", I know it's a very general desorption, but that was the truth of it. We spoke about her time in England when she served her mission and that the one thing she missed was the music. I told her one of my favourites was Kate Bush, which to my surprise, was also one of Sarah's'. We already had something in common. We spoke about our favourite Kate Bush songs and it was good to be talking about music with someone who obviously appreciated it. I was beginning to feel that this was the start of a great friendship, after all, in my book, anyone who liked Kate Bush was OK with me.

Before Sunday School started I made a quick visit to the toilets, upon entering I met Craig Hindley preening himself in the mirror. I didn't bother to say anything and waited for him to finish, I wanted to splash some water on my face, it was hot and I was feeling sweaty, and with only one sink, I had to wait. Craig eventually turned round and asked what I wanted, I thought that would be obvious but replied " the sink". He carried on with his preening and when finished he decided to give me a little bump with his shoulders when walking past me. I gave him a look but decided not to say anything, we were at a church, but I was annoyed. He was an arrogant brat who was starting to get on my nerves. I didn't think it would be long before something was said.

Sunday School was again pretty unspectacular, Elder Jackson was again giving the lesson and to be honest, his attention seemed to be more focused towards the ladies. He was a good looking fella, the thing was , he knew it. He came across at times as too self confidant, more to the point, too cock sure of himself. There were one or two new faces in today's class, the names escape me. Rachel was there of course and again, she was really quiet and almost uninterested. Elder Jackson's missionary partner was Elder Rainey , as opposite to Jackson as could be. Large build, glasses and quite serious. I never had much to do with Elder Rainey, except for polite exchanges. He was however present in today's lesson.

Hour 2 over and again I headed for the outside of the church, I met up with Jamie and Harvey. Jamie was his excitable self. Paul Meiring joined us as Harvey told us about his week at school, which was pretty drab. Harvey asked if I was OK coming to church on my own now and if I missed having my Mum. Naturally I said no, I was a big boy, I could take care of myself. The four of us headed back into the chapel for the priesthood meeting. This usually lasted about 10 - 15 minutes before went into our separate groups. Today, Grant Howard was going to be taking the lesson. The lesson was about the responsibilities of the youth within the church, the lesson covered things such as the Aaronic Priesthood, which was something everyone in the lesson held,it was considered a lesser priesthood which young men were ordained to from the age of 12. It was divided into different categories dependant on age. Jamie and Paul were deacons, Harvey and Craig teachers, Shane a priest. Should I be baptised, I could become a teacher. each had different roles, but the one that Grant touched on which I had heard about before was the home visits. As teachers within the Aaronic priesthood, it was expected to undertake these visits, you would pair off with an existing elder and visit homes to teach the word. I did not like the sound of this one bit, but it seemed Harvey and Craig were both going to be doing this in the upcoming week, I watched Craigs' face and it was clear he was none to interested either. This did tickle me just a bit I have to be honest. I just could picture him going door to door with an elder spreading the word! God help the homes he visited. During this meeting it was also mentioned that there was an upcoming trip being planned to Port Elizabeth for a weekend during the school holidays Port Elizabeth was about 3 hours away from East London and somewhere I had not been. There was some big meeting taking place with different churches travelling down . Grant extended an invitation to me. I was surprised, as a non member I didn't think I would be going, but he said we would travel down in his van, which would hold about 8 - 10, so I was more than welcome to come. I said I would let him know. Craig muttered something about it only being for members, which Grant heard and corrected . After the meeting as I was walking out, Craig decided it would be funny to try and trip me up by sticking his foot in front of me, I turned round quickly and asked what his problem was?

"You", he replied. I told him to grow up and started walking away but he walked up behind me and put his knee in my back. "Watch it" he said, and he walked past me. I was half a mind to go after him but I didn't think this was the place for an argument or fight. It was brewing though, nearer and nearer. It had started to become clear that not everyone was as welcoming as first appeared. Craig Hindley and I were never going to be friends , I had no idea what I had done, perhaps nothing. We were so different and I put it down to that. I didn't like him and he didn't like me, however within his little group of Shane and Carla I knew things were being said which were about me. I could see it clearly. At this point, I couldn't have cared less, it had taken a bit of the " shine " away from what I had thought near perfect and the events of the day had come close to spoiling my Sunday, but not quite. It was as if Craig and his little posse were trying to upset the applecart , well, that is how I saw it. I still felt a part of things though and to some degree more so now that Mum wasn't attending. I was being treated like an " adopted" son, particularly by the Howard family. They were kind and friendly and I was pleased that they were fond of me, as I was them. This Sunday in particular marked the beginning of two significant things which would become more and more important in the following two years of my life, my new found relationship with the Howard family and a battle with those less than pleased having me about, back then it was Craig Hindley and his school yard antics, pretty soon it would grow beyond the stuff of teenager squabbles - into more adult territory.

NEXT TIME Decisions