The view from our front porch is of this little church. It’s a bit embarrassing to admit that I’m not sure if it’s still a church. I have no earthly idea what denomination it is (or was) or if the congregation ever even reached double digits.
What I DO know is that it used to be a one room schoolhouse. My grandmother taught there for 9 years, retiring just before my father was born. My father attended kindergarten and first grade there, before school consolidation, and the advent of the bus ride to town. My mother went to a one room school quite a few miles away, but in the same consolidation she went to town school as well.
I realized just last week that Grandma didn’t live at this house when she taught there, she and Grandpa lived a mile or so further up the road. I bet it was an unbelievable pain in the middle of winter to get to school. I’m sure the roads wouldn’t have been cleared, although I tend to doubt she drove to school anyway. Then to get there and have to start the heater and wait in the bitter cold for the place to heat up. Yikes.