Gathering My Wits For Vespers

Flowers at Vespers

Once again (and for the final time this year), it is my turn to do the “Oysterville Moment” at Vespers.  We began calling it that some years ago for lack of any other appropriate designation.  It’s the five or six-minute time period at the beginning of Vespers which began as an introduction of the participants when my folks started the summer Sunday Vespers services in the church.

Mom scheduled the ministers and organists and musicians and ushers.  Dad went over in the morning and swept the church and took  flowers from his garden.  He, also, stood at the door to welcome people, passed out the bulletins and, if needed, introduced the participants to one another.  Mom began the services with the welcome and often told a little bit of history about the church or about Oysterville.  People loved her stories.

Cyndy Hayward’s Oysterville Moment

After dad died, Nyel took on the custodial jobs, I did the flowers and helped mom with scheduling.  She still enjoyed telling her stories at the beginning of each service but when she could no longer manage, I began filling in.  That’s probably when we started calling that  portion of the program the”Oysterville Moment.”

Nyel and I had been “carrying on the tradition” (as they say) for about twenty years when it occurred to me that this really should be a responsibility shared by all the members of the Oysterville Restoration Foundation.  Gradually, more and more residents took on one or two Oysterville Moments and then, in an amazing stroke of good fortune, Carol Wachsmuth volunteered (or did I do some arm-twisting?) to take on the scheduling job!  She is a master at it and I have thoroughly enjoyed sitting in the audience, responsibility-free, right along with almost everyone else.

Full House at Vespers

Today, however, it’s my turn to do the Oysterville Moment.  It’s my second time this summer, the first being just two weeks ago.  And, of course, my age being what it is, I can’t remember what the heck I talked about last time.  If I repeat myself, will anyone notice?  Probably not.  Most of the heads out there in the audience are gray like mine, after all, and their memories may not be much better than mine.  But… just in case, I think I’ll call Carol and ask.

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