Grandma's Funeral

First you have to understand that Grandma and Grandpa were not church goers. In fact, Grandpa Hammond told everyone he was a Christian Scientist, because they were ignorant people in good old New Boston who were afraid of anything that was as strange and unusual as Christian Science. And also, he had learned that Christian Scientists didn't believe in doctors and medicine, and proclaiming he was one of them kept him from being hounded to go to the doctor. As far as I know, he never had any actual contact with a member of that faith.

You need also to know that Grandma was a musician. When she was a girl, she played the piano in a movie theater run by her mother, providing "mood" music to whatever was going on on the silent screen. She sang well and she appreciated good music of all kinds.

Grandma was raised a Baptist, but there was no Baptist church in town. When she died, my Aunt Mary came from California to take care of things. She made arrangements for burial in the New Windsor Cemetery and hired the local Baptist minister to do the grave side rites. The minister's wife played the autoharp (or was it a zither?), and she and her husband would sing "Nearer My God to Thee."

The day of the funeral arrived and it was cold and windy, but at least there was no snow on the ground. We all trooped to the cemetery where there was a tent to keep off some of the wind, just SOME of the wind. It blew through like only a prairie wind can blow.

The minister decided it was time for Grandpa to 'come to Jesus' and he set out to tell Grandpa the error of his ways for keeping Grandma away from the church all those years. At least that's how I remember it. Never a kind word was said about our wonderful, laughing, kind Grandma. I don't know if he was preaching eternal damnation or not, but that's how it seemed to me.

Then the preacher and his wife began their rendition of the old hymn. He was a pretty decent singer, and she wasn't bad as a musician, but the wind blowing so steadily apparently dried out a string...or something. Anyway about 2/3 through the first verse she hit the sourest note you ever heard. Then when they got to the same place on the next verse, she didn't avoid it. She waded right in and played that bad note again.

Joy, Corrine (Joy's mother) and I were red in the face from having to hold in our laughter. We could just imagine Grandma cringing in her casket at that awful screech. As soon as we could get behind the nearby shed, we dissolved into uncontrollable laughter. Just then Aunt Sally came around the building and thought we were sobbing. Our family not being comfortable with outward displays of emotion, she turned around and went back the way she came.

They say laughter and tears aren't far apart, and on that cold day in February, we couldn't have agreed more...and I dare say, Grandma was laughing right along with us.

Gladys Lelia McUne Hammond 1890 - 1970

How I Got Religion

So, how did you learn your religion? I’ve heard of people who got theirs from Sunday School and a few who had parents or grandparents who read the Bible every evening. But I think I got my grounding by singing hymns and carols.

One of the first songs I learned was “Jesus Loves Me,” and I’ve discovered that my little Sunday-schooled grandchildren have learned it also. When I played the piano at a nursing home, everyone, no matter what their age or mental state, could and did sing “Jesus Loves Me.” I still believe that He loves me, and nothing that has happened to me in life has disabused me of that belief.

“What a Friend We Have in Jesus” was popular at our Sunday School, but it was also one that my grandmother played and sang. I have no memory for poetry, but I know most of the words to this hymn, and it’s theology hangs in my head even when people tell me that God couldn’t possibly listen to what all us myriad people have to say.

Grandma loved “The Old Rugged Cross,” and I do, too. There’s something haunting and yet satisfying about the words, and the music is just right. She also sang “Abide With Me,” “May the Lower Lights Be Shining,” and “In the Garden.” I think they are universal favorites.

Until recently every school child learned Christmas carols at school as well as at church. “Silent Night” is the most oft recorded song in the world, and the picture it makes of Jesus’ birth is just “how it was,” as far as most are concerned. Where was Jesus born? In the little town of Bethlehem, of course. Who came to see him? Harald angels, shepherds watching their flocks by night, and wise men traveling from afar.

When I was 14 I started taking piano lessons from Miss Johnson who was the music director and organist at a Christian Church in my city. She got me into the youth choir, and for four years I sang choir music, even participating in Handel’s Messiah four times. (I still think the alto part is the tune.) One of the songs we sang was “For God So Love the World,” and I loved that song! I can sing it today, albeit with the alto as melody.

One of my most embarrassing moments came when I was quite grown and had been “out of the church” for 13 years. One time some of my church friends kept mentioning John 3:16, and I didn’t have a clue what they were talking about. Finally I demanded, “What IS John 3:16?” They looked at me like I was a yokel, couldn’t believe I wouldn’t know it. When they repeated it, I said, “Oh, I know that one!” And I did. From singing it as an anthem.

I’ve had a lifetime of studying the Bible and theology, but I think the basis of all my religion is what I learned by singing with others the hymns, carols and anthems of our faith.