Big Bang

Looking back, is there an event you recall - something that hindsight suggests was a pivotal moment in your life, even though you didn't know it then?  This is what I remember.
                                                   
     Scientists tell us the universe began about 13 billion years ago. Our world was just a small place in a black hole where there was so much gravitational pressure that, one day, it began expanding so fast that it blew wide open. And here we sit! Our brains can hardly comprehend how we got here, let alone what we're supposed to be doing.
     When I first heard the words, Big Bang theory, I knew it didn't occur 13 billion years ago. I can tell scientists a thing or two because I was there. It happened in 1949 in a small town in western New York state about 11:30 the third Sunday morning in September.
     Sunlight slanted through the vast Tiffany stained glass windows in the First Presbyterian Church. My eight-year old sister and I sat knee-to-knee between our parents on the velvet-covered pew cushion. The minister stood on the elevated platform behind his lectern in the chancel area where he had just concluded the prayer after the sermon. It was pin-drop quiet.
     THUD, gada, gada,THUD, gada, gada.
     What was that? Heads swiveled; parishioners whispered. I giggled and looked at my sister. We scrunched together in shared mirth, then slid off our seats onto the carpet.
     “Shush,” Mother hissed as Daddy, the silent disciplinarian, glared. We couldn't contain ourselves, laughing out loud, our arms squeezing our middles, trying to halt the spasms of hilarity. Necks twisted in our direction as we mentally propelled ourselves down Alice's rabbit hole.
     A few days later as the family sat eating supper around the kitchen table, Daddy related a topic of conversation from the recent church board of directors' meeting.  Looking at Mom, he said, “We voted to pay for some organ lessons for Miriam.  We can't sing the hymns when she's making so many mistakes.” He paused as he took a forkful of mashed potatoes. “And that incident last Sunday – you know, everybody's talking.” Then he turned to me. “As soon as your legs are long enough, maybe you can take some pipe organ lessons.”
     Play the church organ? Hands – and feet. Wow, that would be so exciting!   I could play the hymns while everyone sang. I was already taking piano lessons, but my feet barely reached the sostenuto pedal.  As I cleaned my plate, I secretly willed my legs to grow faster.
     Scientists may differ, but I'll stick with my own Big Bang story: the day the universe captured my attention and showed me a direction in life. The day the church organist walked across the organ pedals with the stops pulled on.

 

                                                         THUD, gada, gada, THUD, gada, gada!




Talk to you next Thursday!
Donna