Eulogy

I lived in Williamsville IL for about 6 years during my childhood. Because this is the town where my first memories were made, and because I've never lived anywhere else longer than 6 years, I've always sort of considered Williamsville the place where "I grew up." It has sort of become rather obsolete in my mind, though I do visit this tiny town once in a great while to see friends. Because of our network, we are friends with the youth minister (and his wife) of the Christian church there. Now this tiny town is currently famous for the tornado that twisted through part of Williamsville on August 19, destroying homes, and destroying the church. The demolition crew paid a visit to the place where I once walked across the beams of the unfinished building, roller skated in the wide basement, took calls in Dad's office (he was the preacher), and copied Mom's gestures as she conducted the choir. I feel SO silly, but I feel I need to pay a visit to the church and pay my respects. You see, this was my home. This is where my heart was settled before we began to move all over the midwest. It is just a building, but it's a building that houses my memories of stability, something I learned to live without for the duration of my youth. This is not intended to be a pity-post, because I'm grateful for the experiences I've gained through the 9 towns I have lived in, and the friends I've met through the 7 schools I attended. Rather, it is an eulogy. An eulogy to praise the building that brought together the people and experiences who gave my heart a home.

The Williamsville Christian Church