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| Kvam church |
On Sunday, I attended the church where my paternal grandparents attended from 1910 until their deaths. The church dates back to around 1868. The country church sits on a hill, making it visible from a distance. There have been some changes, but the original sanctuary still remains. The raised pulpit, the beautiful altar and the pews were all there at the time my family attended.
As I sit in the pews, I think of my grandparents who I never met because they died before I was born. I can almost visualize them sitting in the pew at each worship, their eyes on the same altar that I see today. I wonder if grandpa served as an usher. My grandmother surely was a part of the ladies aid. I am sure they, along with their children, attended faithfully and arrived by horse and buggy in the very early days. I know my grandparents raised their children in a godly home where the Bible was read daily; they instructed their children to lead Christian lives and to be an example to others. They enjoyed hymn singing —and listening.
My dad was confirmed in the church.There is no confirmation picture of him, but I can imagine him at the altar, affirming his faith and vowing to renounce the devil and all his works and all his ways.
My grandparents are buried in the church cemetery, the headstone visible as I come into the church parking lot. All of their children have passed, and many of their grandchildren. Through the generations we still see growth of the spiritual seeds planted by our grandparents and parents.
