A Church is More than a Building

We went to a funeral last week for my Dad's brother. Back to the little town of Toccopola Ms. The small church sits on the same spot that Dad's home was when he was growing up.

Here is what the old home place looked like 50 years ago.
 Back then the little church sat on a hill to the left.  Mom told me that one Sunday she put my petticoat slip on me and was waiting till the last minute to put the dress on. She must have forgot to tell me this. So she misses me and looks out and sees me going up the steps of the church. Oops!

This is a picture is of the church building which has been moved to another community.

The funeral was held in their new brick church building. Since Church of Christ don't use musical instruments, there could not have been a sweeter sound than family and friends singing "Amazing Grace" and "Old Rugged Cross". I quit singing just to listen. I noticed their attendance--39 and yet the other board showed an offering of $700. A small but giving church. And then that little congregation prepared and fed a  hungry family with good country cooking.  Roots run deep in that Mississippi church.