Climbing the Sunday School Ladder

There’s a monster in the closet!

That’s what my first grade buddies and I thought when we opened a mysterious door inside our brand new classroom at the conclusion of Sunday School.

When my big brother John and I stepped into the multipurpose room of the church basement that morning, all the youngsters were assembled to celebrate our annual Promotion Sunday.

After the newbies for the Beginner class stood at the front of the room to be recognized, it was time for all the first graders to be honored as we joined the Primary class.

This minister’s youngest son marched up to the front of the room with my chums Johnny Puskarich and Billy Denny along with a few of our other classmates.

Our new teacher, Ruthie Bubar handed each of us a New Testament along with a pin signifying our movement up in the ranks.

As soon as the special ceremony concluded, my intimate companions and I followed my brother to the new classroom where we would spend the next three years.

Since we were short a couple chairs with the expanded class, the long black-haired teacher sent the preacher’s eldest and David Selvoski to each get an extra folding chair from the other room to put around the table.

“Look over there,” I whispered while lightly poking my favorite pal in the rib cage pointing to the other side of the room. “I wonder what that door is for and where it leads to?”

“I don’t know,” mentioned Johnny in a low voice as he clued their other comrade in on the secret discussion. “But I think we need to find out as soon as class is over.”

“I agree,” exclaimed Billy as he leaned forward making eye contact with his fellow associates. “It’s kind of strange that the door is a step up and doesn’t go all the way to the floor.”

Once David and John came back into the classroom with the extra chairs, the youngsters settled in as we got started on our Sunday school lesson.

After the preliminaries were completed, we delved into our first of many more Bible lessons to come with the Battle of Jericho when the Israelites conquered the land the God of Jehovah promised them many years before.

While the youngsters listened intently, we learned about the seven days of singing and jubilation as the children of Israel walked about the perimeter of the city.

Undoubtedly, the little shavers in the room enthusiastically voiced their glee when the walls came tumbling down and the Israelites took the city.

“Charge,” I blurted out while my crew and I raised our arms high into the air with imaginary swords in hand. “The city is ripe for the picking and belongs to us.”

“Leave no stone unturned,” I continued repeating the words of the teacher’s story before covering my mouth for the unruly outburst. “We will conquer what rightfully belongs to the Lord.”

David and John jumped from their seats at the opposite end of the table from where the Sunday school teacher sat and began acting out a duel with imaginary swords.

After being reprimanded for our tomfoolery, the older boys apologized before taking their seats and my buddies and I bowed our heads in shame as the amiable Sunday school teacher finished the lesson.

At the conclusion of the Bible lesson when the other students meandered back into the big room for Children’s Church, Johnny quickly closed the door and a squabble ensued as to which one of us would open the mystery door.

“I don’t wanna open it,” shrieked Billy as he backed into the corner on the other side of the room. “Why don’t you open it? It was your idea to see what’s behind the door in the first place.”

“It’s probably just a closet,” proclaimed the Bentleyville native as he reasoned with his best buddy. “Or… there might be a monster in there just waiting for a little boy to open the door; so he can eat him for lunch.”

“Okay, fine,” I declared while fighting the trepidation in my voice to overcome the fear in my heart. “I’m the one that started this whole thing, so I’ll open the door.”

Not knowing what was on the opposite side of the portal, this threesome stood huddled tightly together while firmly closing our eyes as I reached for the doorknob and quickly flung open the elevated door.

Noticing a pull cord hanging down from the top of the other side of the entryway, Billy pulled on the white string which turned on a light switch.

“I know why this door is here,” remarked the next door neighbor’s grandson as he poked his head into the cavernous space. “There is a water meter near the top of the hill.”

“This is an access point; so the meter reader can know how much water is used from month to month,” he added with confidence.

“I see it up there,” commented Johnny as he glanced up at the top of the hill just under the floorboards. “But how do you even know all that stuff you just said?”

“Simple,” exclaimed the black-haired lad puffing his chest out as he crossed his arms while looking at his partners in crime. “One of my uncles works for the water authority in Bentleyville.”

When something flew down the hillside and across the opening, the three of us quickly closed the door and stood in front of it acting as a barricade.

“Did you see that,” I asserted forming a lump in my throat as all three of us wiped our brows with the back of our hands. “What on the world was that flying around in there?”

When his favorite pal mentioned the possibility that it might have been a bat, these three musketeers lost our nerve and turned tail making a hasty exit from the room.