Box 15 re-written

The smell of the beautiful wood that covers the ceiling and walls of my church always trigger some of my favorite memories. I can remember that smell filling my nose as I ran through the halls, even though I wasn't supposed to run in church, brushing my hand across the rough textured brick walls. The smooth ivory keys of the piano in the drafty choir room moved up and down with ease at the light touch of my fingers. To wake up on a Sunday was so different from waking up any other day! I didn't have to drag myself to school, but instead I could go to the place I feel closest to my father in heaven! I would get to hear the glorious sounds of the choir and orchestra lifting praise to God! I'd hear the comforting sound of my minister's voice speaking so lovingly of the same father that we both share. I love that place.