Everyone spoke in hushed tones. Mom cried silently, dabbing her eyes with a Kleenex. What was going on?
Moments before, I sat in the back row, behind the Vinar family, copying the gibberish I saw in a hymnbook onto a blank piece of paper my older sister had given me. Now, everyone was huddled into groups, solemn, and praying. Something important was happening. Something big!
Is this my church?