From Wendy Emery
This is our Sunday School class--in all our stiff looking dresses--not a smile among us--we look scared for some reason. My house was at the bottom of a little hill and the Anglican Church at the the top across the street on the left corner. The Pentecostal Church was at the top of the hill on the same side of the street on the right corner. When we were really little we occasionally would sneak into the Pentecostal services when we were supposed to be going to S S--it was great fun--we thought--because they would, I guess kind of yell/sing?, in retropsect-but they had all kinds of musical intruments that we could play during the service--great fun for a tiny kid. Like triangles and so forth.
Once , when we were really tiny, we walked (she frequently spent the night with us as I did at her house) out of my house in nothing but our little white undershirts and I guess wandered in to town which was only a street over and the Catholic Church priest found us and returned us back to my Mom who needless to say was really surprised and not at all happy. We were so little and innocent but certainly seemed to get into trouble.
As I said before she was like a sister to me and we had way too much fun.