The Aunts Go Marching

The Ants go marching one by one Hurrah! Hurrah!
The Ants go marching one by one Hurrah! Hurrah!

As little girls my sisters and I must have bothered our parents a great deal by singing this song
on road trips. I suppose it's a variation to the dreaded question,
"Are we there yet?"

Or the other family saying invented by my cousin,
"We're lost and you're just not telling us!"

The other day I saw a cute book that took me back to those long ago days.
The title is The Aunts Go Marching One By One *

The pictures were delightful. Lots of ladies holding umbrellas were marching up and down the
streets followed by a little girl banging on a drum. I didn't get a chance to read it until this past Sunday.

Every third Sunday we have a carry in lunch at church. The wonderful aroma of scalloped potatoes and ham tickles our noses all through the morning service. After the Doxology a bevy of women gather in the school room and also in the basement getting the food lined up on the tables for a buffet.

This particular day I brought a lettuce salad. My huge salad bowl was still sitting on the shelf at home. I needed a container to tear the lettuce into. (Maybe I will bring some cheap, red, Walmart bowls to the church for future forgetful people like me.)

 Eventually I found a small tote that had these words printed on the side: Lost and Found

I carefully washed it after I took the glass marble and the soup ladle out of it and tore the lettuce leaves and tossed them in with grated mozzarella cheese. The dressing was on the side to be
added - or not - as everyone wished.

The amazing thing about our pot luck lunches is the salad display. It is almost like the salad
island at Pizza Ranch. The only thing missing is a bowl of cottage cheese.  Croutons and bacon
bits and sunflower seeds are sometimes missing, too, come to think of it. Otherwise there is everything you need to have a wonderful salad lunch.

We haven't even mentioned the hot dish and the dessert table yet.

Stop! I'm getting hungry!

After we've eaten and cleaned up the lunch room lots of little people gather in the school room to read. Big people are welcome to relax and visit as well. I remembered this book on the shelf in the reading corner. No sooner had I settled in Krysta's big comfy chair behind her desk when a little moppet with brown eyes appeared at my elbow, begging to have me read to her. She perched on my lap and we bounced through the book and the song. Before I knew it two more little gals gathered close by and wanted me to read it again.

I asked them if they had ever heard this song. No, they didn't think so. My apologies to Kenny and Judy, parents of this darling trio, if you have been driven crazy this week with The Ants go Marching song. I confess. It was my fault.

This week I started thinking about my aunts - that great army of women who have marched with me through life. Let's just say, they are amazing. One of these days I will sit down and
count them. Maybe I will tell some more stories of their influence on my life.

Today I am thankful for my aunts.

* The author of this book is Laurie J. Manning

Hallelujah Chorus

"Hallelujah! Hallelujah!"

A sing song voice perfectly on key floated forward from the middle of the bus
and reached my seat at the front.

I looked in the mirror and tried to locate the singer.

Silence.

Later, as more students climbed on board and settled in their seats I heard it again.

The hallelujah chorus in miniature on my bus as we waited in front of the grade school.

After awhile as we started out on the route a small student came to the front seat.
He was my friend with the flowing words from a month ago.
He asked me, "Do you speak opera?"

"Excuse me?" I said. "I didn't understand what you said."

"Do you sing opera? - like this." And he opened his mouth and out poured this song,

"Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

I was delighted. "You're singing the Hallelujah Chorus!" I joined him and sang,
"Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hal-le-lu-jah."

It was a surreal moment, one which made me feel like I should pinch myself to see if
I was awake or dreaming.