By Sheff Charles Lee
I was raised Southern Baptist through and through. Grandmother Mattie was Superintendent of our small, very hot, or very cold Sunday-go-to-meeting place…or in “sinner language,” church. Grandmother Mattie (as everyone in our small community referred to her) held this esteem position for fifty years. This “church” position proved to be a real disadvantage for everyone inside the family household because everyone was required to attend Sunday school, Church, and night services every Sunday. Unless you were in the ground, you were required to be in the church pew.
We did not have a regular minister except for the first and third Sunday of each month. The Lord’s Supper was administered on these Sundays: bread and wine, or in this case, grape juice. There were those among the congregation that felt Reverend “Money Thyme” was perhaps spiking his grape juice with Jack Daniels. The reasons were clear as he slurred his words and read from Psalms when he had instructed the congregation to St John. However, the most obvious reason was when he insisted that “Smokey Robinson and the Miracles” were a spiritual group that toured the country healing people.
Our tradition on the first and third Sunday was that Rev “Thyme” dined in our home. My grandmother decided to bake a chocolate cake in his honor. The cake batter was mixed by hand and cooked in a wood burning stove. This wood stove was our source for heat during the winter months.
She called it a Tipsy “Thyme” Chocolate Covered Pear Cake. Enjoy!