undercover!!!

Undercover

            I took out my red crayon and scribbled a dashed line from the sanctuary to the women’s bathroom; from there I carefully made a zig-zagging line down the main hallway and then finally, pressing my red crayon forcefully on the wrinkly paper, planted a giant X on the kitchen (aka destination). “Alright you think you can handle this?” I questioned my sidekick who was also my childhood best friend. Chelsea nodded seriously. We knew this procedure well from many attempts and previously failed missions. We could smell victory in the air. It was very close. Why was this so important? Because communion only comes around at the Stillwater SDA church every six months, and time was in short supply. After the service was over on these special days, there would always be a supply of grape juice and the most delicious communion bread you can imagine brought to the kitchen. According to our church’s beliefs, any blessed communion bread left uneaten should be immediately burned. Now of course, being only eight years of age, Chelsea and I could not grasp the idea that stealing the left-over blessed bread would be disrespectful. We just rationalized that if the starving children in Africa our mothers always told us about were not being benefited by destroying this food, than it was even more of a disgrace to allow this food to be wasted. So Chelsea and I were determined more than ever to taste those delicious squares of holy goodness as soon as possible. Chelsea looked at the map I had drawn up for our mission and I could tell she felt confidence in my plans. “All we have to do,” I explained, “is to avoid the pastor, our parents, and worst of all, The Kid Police.” The very idea of this made us shudder. The Kid Police was an obnoxious group of hand selected snitches (oh, excuse me) I mean kids, whose sole purpose at church evolved into telling their parents and teachers which kids were misbehaving. They would proudly wear their bright fire-truck red plastic badges on their chests and patrol the hallways like they were getting paid. Want to know the best part? Chelsea and I were both members of The Kid Police.  It’s true—we were corrupt. As long as we wore our badges, we were positive that we would be able to successfully maneuver through the hallways undetected and capture our prize! We started on our journey. We left the main sanctuary and easily made it to the bathroom. Check that off the map. The next part was the tricky part. There was a long hallway from the bathroom to the kitchen lined with coat racks, drinking fountains, pamphlet holders, and various other attractions. People streamed through the hallway like shoppers on Black Friday. Chelsea and I zig-zagged through the hallway as best we could. I finally made it to the kitchen door. I turned around to share this moment of victory with my friend, but Chelsea was stuck behind a family taking a group picture. “Ughhh…” I groaned. I knew at any moment, the women in the kitchen would be starting the ovens. Chelsea finally got past the family road block and met up with me. We smiled mischievously to each other and pushed open the kitchen door. The smell of burning bread filled the air. We slumped our heads and started to turn around. “Girls, don’t leave! I made some extra bread for you before the service! Don’t worry, it hasn’t been blessed” came from the voice of the pastor’s wife. “Wow!” we both brought our hands to our faces. “Yes,” she continued, bringing over a full bag of communion bread, “I just wanted to reward you girls for your good work.” Chelsea and I exchanged looks of confusion, but she then explained, “You girls are the most responsible Kid Police members. I just wanted to reward you both.” Suddenly the two of us weren’t hungry anymore.