Long tables are connected end to end and filled with the humble offerings of women.
Casseroles made of every kind of pasta, salads of colorful fruit and vegetables, fried chicken, mystery meats, all assembled with care that morning.
Round tables simply adorned with cloths and candles and flowers brought out from the church closet by excited young helpers .
The people sit patiently expectant and try to concentrate on the words of the pastor. Songs and prayers and gifts are offered to the Lord .
Everyone files awkwardly into the auditorium like middle school freshman hoping to find a friend to sit with. Smiling and chatty they gather at tables.
Like good children they wait for the preacher to guide them with a blessing and the go ahead . Everyone smiles.
No one has to tell them what to do.
It’s a potluck . Let’s eat!
What a spread! But “humble offerings of women?” In Kentucky, some of us men cook, and some even better than the women, thank you very much! 😁 (See my mini-pizzas tomorrow at my blog!)
I really appreciate men who can and will cook !
Lovely story. I love potlucks.