Crimera Church of the Bretheren (Junior Sisk / Ronnie Bowman)

That picture on the wall behind me
That’s Pleasant Hill church where we prayed
I still hear the sweet voices singing
To the pump organ mother would play

They’d take up a free will offering
Collected our change for the poor
Thirty or forty parishioners
Raised four or five dollars, no more

This was back in the greatest depression
When we’d hold revivals at night
Ride there in a horse drawn surrey
Lit up with kerosene lights

Back in Augusta county
Where our faith and our spirit was strong
Without it I don’t know how folks there
Could have summoned the will to go on

I’d mow the little old graveyard
Wild strawberries for pay
Now mother and daddy remain there
Facing the east as they lay

This was the Church of the Brethren
Where a man washed another man’s feet
At communion to end the revival
Unleavened bread there to eat

Water there came from a cistern
Grape juice, for there was no wine
At thirteen, I walked to the altar
Another dear memory of mine

That picture on the wall behind me
That’s Pleasant Hill church where we prayed
I still hear the sweet voices singing
To the pump organ mother would play