That day in 1969, while on a picture-taking
trip to old Ft. Union in northern New Mexico,
I spied an old Methodist Church, almost
hidden amongst a random bunch of ancient
gnarled overgrown cottonwoods.
It was the door latch that grabbed my
attention as my friend and I drove off
the highway and parked in front of the
historic church. It was an ornate, though
rusted (and interesting) old door latch
on the rather well-maintained little church
building.
The photo taken that day
with my Rollei, of the
door latch on the front door
of the ancient
Watrous Methodist Church
came out a bit blurred...
maybe befitting the blurring
Mists of Time..and events
of a hundred years ago, when
old Americans---early settlers
and their children
came during hard times to
worship and seek
forgiveness and salvation...
The strains of ancient hymns
could almost be heard
that day, as if wafting out on
the gentle mountain breezes---
"Brethren, we have met to worship
and adore the Lord our God,
Will you pray with all your power
while we try to preach the Word.."
or
"On Jordan's stormy banks I stand
and cast a wishful eye
To Canaan's fair and happy land
where my possessions lie...
I am bound for the Promised Land..."
"O happy day that fixed my choice..."
Those old-timers, whose hands
grasped that ornate unrusted
door latch a century ago....in a sense
were opening the door to
eternity, and though they are gone
forever from the earth,
they still live...and even the young
children who opened that door,
are gone also ...along with their
little handprints...on the latch...
They all still live, not because
they looked for "religion"
in that church..but because they
sought...and found forgiveness.
*************
BY MIL
25 AUGUST 18
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