There we were, a bunch of ladies squished all together along the bench at the back of the church, peacefully listening to a women’s group sing, when all of a sudden the woman just one person over from me jumped up, saying in an excited voice but not a screaming voice, “Snake!”. She had felt something on her arm and brushed it off, only to look down and see a snake. She popped up off the bench, and needless to say, when we heard the word snake, we all followed suit and scooted as far away as we could in the crowded church. Sure enough, there on the floor was a very skinny 18 inch long snake. The deacon who was the main usher that day came and stomped the snake to death with his large, sturdily and beautifully (nice shoes!!) shod foot. All of us ladies with our sandals were glad he came over so quickly. Luke Turk, who is a snake enthusiast, which is putting it mildly, picked it up by the tail and took it outside, no doubt to identify it. Meanwhile, the song continued to its finish, and the worship leader asked what had happened there in the back. When he heard it was a snake, now dead, he said “the snake is dead, amen!” and we all said “amen”, and then he repeated “the snake is dead, amen!!!” and we responded with “amen!!!!”. The pastor actually worked it into the sermon, and we were all just thankful no one got bit.
