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Good morning, and Happy First Day of Spring in
2005. Spring used to be March 21, but now, somehow, it’s March 20.
Well, I’m sure you’ll agree this is a most frigid first day of
spring.
My name is Shirley Grant. I’m not a born-again Unitarian. I’m a born
Unitarian. My parents met and married, and I was christened in the
old Jarvis St. church. Yes, they called it “christening” in those
days. My father, Walter Sachs, is in the photo hanging in the Board
Room, taken when a plaque was being installed on the Sears Building,
where our church used to be. He is on the far right, and it is a
rather surreal experience for me to sit at a meeting in that room
with my father gazing down at me.
I asked to do a testimony because I wanted to share some of my
memories of growing up in the old Jarvis St. Church. The district,
even then, was rather a red light district, out of bounds to
servicemen during World War 2. Charles Eddis, retired minister of
the Montreal Church, was in the navy in Toronto and had to get
permission from his Commanding Officer to attend church!
The RE program was called Sunday School and consisted of just 2
classes. The juniors , numbering about 10, were taught by Nancy
Knight, a wonderful former member of this church who died in 1995.
The high school crowd met in the same room and numbered about 8.
One year we high schoolers decided to serve Easter breakfast to the
whole congregation: grapefruit, eggs, sausages, coffee – the works.
My job was to cut through the segments of grapefruit halves. Even
today I can still remember a seemingly endless row of grapefruit
halves stretching down both sides of a long long table into
eternity.
One particular Sunday, when we had just gone on daylight saving
time, we waited and waited for the organist to appear. Finally our
minister started the service without him. About ten to twelve he
arrived, all ready to warm up for what he thought was the 11 o’clock
service!
Our minister, Mr. James Hodgins held a garden party once a year at
his elaborate Brampton estate. My chief memory was that there was
always unlimited free ice cream in little Dixie cups with those flat
wooden spoons. For me, as a child, this was heaven.
Mr. Hodgins lived in Brampton and was required only to come to
Toronto to give the sermon. My father’s acerbic remark was that Mr.
Hodgins would arrive at quarter to eleven, needing 5 minutes to take
off his outer clothing, and then, of course, he needed 10 minutes to
prepare the sermon!
The congregation dwindled during the 40’s, due, so it was thought,
to our aging minister, Mr. Hodgins. He became frailer and frailer,
and almost tottered up the aisle. One time my mother, who had an
aisle seat, thought he was going to topple over into her lap!
I hope you’ve enjoyed my reminisces, because I’ve certainly enjoyed
sharing them with you. There are many more anecdotes, but alas! My
allotted time is up and depositing another nickel wouldn’t buy me
any more time from Donna.
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