The silence in the church continued for about another three or four months. Then the ladies started to ease back into old ways. This time they were careful about who talked to. They kept their grievances with the new pastor within the confines of their close-knit circle.

This went on for years. They would go to church sitting quietly while Reverend Shilling preached. They never said “Amen” or tried to encourage or agree with anything the pastor was saying. They would just sit there rolling their eyes.

I guess it was sometime around my senior year in high school when things started to liven back up in the church. Reverend Shilling was still there. He still preached every Sunday, and the women still rolled their eyes at him. Sister Shilling still sat on her same pew. The women still called each other after service and critiqued the sermon.

This Sunday was a little different. During service- right before the offering plate was passed around, Sister Ella got up to go to the rest room. As she sauntered down the middle isle of the sanctuary- something that just is not done once service has begun, she tripped on the crack in the floor. She cried out in pain, and some of the other ladies went running to her side, but just before reaching her, my mother tripped in the crack. She landed right on top of Sister Ella!

Sister Violet tripped as well, but she landed in a big heap just beside them. The same for Sister Davis. I remember laughing so hard that tears were running down my face.

Then out of no where, Sister Shilling stood up, looked at the ladies, and said, “Look, every one! The demons are trying to bust Hell wide open!”

I don’t know what she said that for! My mother was the first one to her feet. She went at Sister Shilling with both barrels blazing- so to speak. She yelled, screamed and cursed. Sister Shilling just laughed.

Then Sister Davis went at her. Sister Shilling still laughed. She kept laughing as all the women picked themselves up and went after her. Then without warning, Sister Ella pulled put her gun!

Deacon Davis quietly escorted all the kids out of the sanctuary. He sat back in the fellowship hall with us praying that she would not shoot any one. When he was done praying he came back and asked me and a few of the other teens to go back and watch the little ones.

I wanted to stay, but I really did not want to be in there if that gun just so happened to go off. I went on to the fellowship hall, but I stayed close to the door so that I could still take a gander at what was going on.

From the small crack that I kept in the door, I saw Sister Ella pointing her gun at Sister Della. Sister Della did not seem bothered. She just rose from her seat and asked Sister Ella if she planned on shooting her for laughing.

“I just might. Laugh now!” Sister Ella said.

All the other women were moving out of the line of fire as the two women looked at each other with wary eyes.

“Go ahead, you old devil,” Sister Della told her.

Revered Shilling had made his way from the pulpit to stand in front of his wife, but she pushed him out of the way saying that she did not need him to shield her from the devil. He reluctantly stood to the side and watched.

“You are a dumb B-” I will not repeat the long stint of curse words that Sister Ella called Sister Della. I will just say that there was nothing Christian-like about any of it. She used words that I had never heard before, and believe me I had heard them all.

“Wow!” Sister Della said. “I didn’t know that you knew that many words.”

“I could shoot you right now, and I would not feel the least bit bad about it.”

“Then shoot, and quit talking about it.”

Poor Reverend Shilling looked on in disbelief. He could not believe what he was seeing or hearing. There was a crazy lady pointing a gun at his wife, and she was egging her on! Sister Della did not look the least bit afraid though.

“You’re not worth it,” Sister Ella said tucking the gun back into her purse.

You will not believe what happened next!

Sister Della- who might have weighed about a buck fifty soak and wet, jump across the pew at the three hundred pound Sister Ella! She beat that old lady until her arms got tired- and no one stopped her.

As a matter of fact, the other ladies were cheering the fight on and the men were easing out the back door- even Reverend Shilling.

A little while later, I walked out leading the children out the back door. As we tipped down the side of the sanctuary opposite the side where the two ladies now sat on opposing ends of the front pew looking like two boxers taking a break between rounds, I stifled a little giggle. Sister Ella was sitting there with her hair all mussed up heaving heavily while patting lightly at a black eye while Sister Della sat on the other end of the bench with a funny little smirk spread across her lips.

Later on as I sat in the living room at home, I listened in on a phone call that my mother was making from the phone in her bedroom. She was talking to Sister Violet about the fight.

“Did you see how that little woman jumped that bench and whipped Sister Ella down?”

“I saw it. The poor woman didn’t stand a chance against that little witch,” my mother said laughingly.

I realized then that something at Mount Galilee was about to change, and I was right.

The following Sunday, all the ladies of the church- except Sister Ella sat close around Sister Della. That little had woman had fought Sister Ella like Daniel against the giant and won the respect that she should have given all along as the first lady of the church.