First Christian was always there for me

Cedar Rapids, I'm sorry, I didn't know.

On May 20, during the funeral for my late brother's widow (I was their wedding ring bearer at First Christian Church in 1950), I learned of your great loss. Had I known, I would have fought shoulder to shoulder with you to save that church, but I'm told now I'm too late.

I know the “church” is not a building. For me, that building was like a great friend's home that was always there for me, my grandmother, my mother and father, my eight siblings and families, and scores of loving members of God's family who helped nurture me in adolescence. They will always be “the church.”

But I'll miss that building: from the nursery room Ritz crackers box just out of reach on top of the wall speaker; to Boy Scouts and children's Christmas pageants on the basement stage; and the May Frick Room cake and punch after siblings' weddings and my folk's 25th wedding anniversary.

Worn wooden stairs and delightful colored windows that a young boy once thought might reach to the subfloor of heaven, I think of it often.

I'll miss the columned front that always reminded me when I drove by of the baptistery at 840 Third Ave., where first I met my savior.

Mike Wright

Ames