Home Beckons

When I passed the little white Methodist Church in downtown Hollenback yesterday, I began to think back on Vacation Bible School in the late ‘50s and early ‘60s. My brother and our friends gathered there each summer to read short stories of Jonah’s whale, Daniel’s lion, David’s slingshot, and Mary’s Miracle. We worked on art projects and took a snack break each day – my favorite was Oreo cookies dunked in grape Kool-Aid. And, we sang church-appropriate songs like “Jesus Loves Me” and “Jesus Loves the Little Children.”

As I drove, another song we sang came to mind, one we learned from Mrs. Stone that seems a bit unusual for such a setting. I sang it out loud as I drove past the old Wilmot grange building:

In a cabin in the woods
At the door an old man stood
Saw a rabbit passing by
Knocking at the door
Help me! Help me! Help me, he said
Or that hunter will shoot me dead
Little rabbit come inside
Safely to abide

As soon as that last word was sung, I shouted, “BAM!” just as that roomful of kids did so many years ago. I smiled at the memory of us sending that poor rabbit straight to the supper table as pan-fried rabbit next to boiled potatoes, baked beans, and homemade applesauce! We were the young sons and daughters of hunters, most with at least one shotgun propped up in a corner of the kitchen or living room, just in case …

Back home from Dushore, the song kept ringing through my head, so I Googled the first couple of lines and was pleased to find at least five cartoon videos. I watched the first one and listened as the rabbit cried, “Help me!” and was surprised and a bit irritated to hear him then say, “for it’s cold and I might freeze.” The video showed a hunter with a gun, but the words had been changed. The second video was even more troubling. The line in the song was changed to “Fore the farmer bops my head.” The cartoon figure was a wild-haired farmer with menacing eyes carrying a 2X4, apparently appropriate for bopping bunnies on the head.

I grumbled about it for a couple of minutes to Gary, imagining myself with a 2X4 going after whoever felt the need to mess with my childhood memories. If it hadn’t been so late I’d have gone to town for some Oreos and grape Kool-Aid. At least some things haven’t changed.