Raccoons
That Killed the Church
The perfect pews in their straight
lines and narrow paths are the problem. Or maybe it is the lifeless creatures
inhabiting them that are the problem. No, most will say that it is the
raccoons. The raccoons are the problem.
Their ringed tails litter what’s
left of the floor space and their black noses knock over the decorative flowers
in the golden vases. They hang from the rafters and sing along during worship
but can’t keep to themselves during the sermon. They crawl inside the old
ladies purses sniffing for gum and flavored lipstick. They burrow in the choir
gowns and leave surprises on the preacher’s pulpit. They take the “Amazing” out
of “Amazing Grace” chewing holes in the hymnals.
The children’s laughs only encourage
the raccoon’s kits to keep chasing one another around in circles during nursery
school. The elders are not so amused. They shout until their blue in the face.
“Something must be done!”
Some may say that it’s a sin to hurt
one of God’s own creations inside his house of worship but others disagree.
Pastor Davis took matters into his own hands after the service on a Sunday
afternoon. He set traps in every room in every corner. He tricked them with
peanut butter and cheese. One by one the traps sprung and great metal jaws
pinched the life away from the raccoon's. The place reeked of death and blood
but the job was done.
Davis brought the bodies out back
and stacked them high. The orange glow shone bright through the surrounding
trees alerting the rest of the town that the dead had been done.
The north west wind shifted just in
the slightest. The flickering flames tickled the side of the church. The rustic
old building was not prepared and the cider siding caught the heat. Before
Davis knew it the whole building was on ablaze. No one could get there in time.
The minuscule Church of the Nazarene lay vanquished in a smoldering heap between
Marty’s Corner Store and Old Fishers Farmers Mart. The raccoons, as they say, killed
the church.
No comments:
Post a Comment