Published: August 15, 2008 09:42 pm         

Church ladies: A species on the endangered list

The Back Porch

MINERAL WELLS — She got up from the table and ambled across the dining room behind a man presumed to be her husband. Dressed in a cotton floral print dress, her hair was pulled up into a neat knot. No doubt, she had just come from church.

They stopped at a table where two older ladies sat and chatted a few moments. Apparently, Cracker Barrel is the gathering place after church in these parts.

“What will we do when all the church ladies are gone?” I wondered.

I’m not talking about Dana Carvey’s takeoff in the character he made famous on “Saturday Night Live.” I’m talking about the honest-to-goodness church ladies, the pillars of rural communities.

Church ladies are literally a dying breed, and we’re losing something good with time’s unending march. As they go, so goes the community.

Now we call them “women of the church,” and it’s not the same thing. It’s a generational shift but also a cultural change.

Many church ladies never worked full-time jobs outside the home.

They took in laundry or did sewing or pitched in while someone was having a baby or getting through a funeral, but they devoted 99 percent of their energies to their families and communities. They would have thought it scandalous to leave their babies with a near stranger in day care.

Women of the church work at least one full-time job, act as chauffeur, balance sports and school schedules and hope their job pays enough to pay their day care bills.

Church ladies knew everybody’s celebrations or scandals and rejoiced accordingly.

Women of the church are lucky to keep up with their own families, let alone know about the neighbors down the street having problems.

Church ladies could sit through a two-hour service, go home, pick a chicken out of the coop, kill it, dress it and still get dinner on the table in about an hour. Their pie crusts were always homemade, and they set their best china and silver for the meal.

Women of the church nuke an entrée in the microwave, open some boxes or bags and serve it on paper plates with plastic forks. Or, if it’s a really busy day, it’s pizza carried by the slice to the minivan to get to the soccer match in time.

Church ladies could quickly mobilize to help a family in need. They’d cook up an entire meal and deliver it to the family affected within a couple of hours of the need. They might even serve the meal and clean the house before they left.

Women of the church fight over the best-looking pudding cake in the Kroger deli, drop it off on the way home from work and hope it’s enough to show they care. They put it on the table next to the three other pudding cakes from the Kroger deli.

Church ladies eat out once a week and carefully count their change to leave exactly a 10 percent tip. It’s not that they are cheap; they’re old-fashioned enough to really believe restaurant owners should pay their employees a livable wage and that tips are a little extra for good service.

Women of the church eat out more meals than in, put the whole thing on a plastic card and take the leftovers home in a box.

They leave a generous tip because it’s easier to pay someone else to cook than to do it themselves.

Church ladies were delicate beings who wore hats and white gloves but were somehow strong-willed enough to get their husbands and children dressed in their Sunday best and sitting in their usual pews at least 15 minutes before the preacher cleared his throat and stood up to start the service.

Women of the church rush to their cars, give a quick once over to make sure everyone is at least fully dressed and put the pedal to the metal in hopes of being only 10 minutes late getting to their seats.

Church ladies are no better than women of the church, but their approach to the world will be sorely missed when they are all gone.

Society has shifted its focus away from valuing people who serve to being people who need to be served. Church ladies had very few labor-saving devices, but they always managed to have time for people.

God bless them every one.

— Young is a Register-Herald columnist. E-mail: ynerissa@verizon.net.

© 2008 by Nerissa Young