He had preached his usual sermon
That the parishioners knew so well.
Not much time spent on Heaven
And too much spent on Hell.

After service everyone
Liked to visit in the hall.
It was there that little Freddy,
Saw some plaques up on the wall.
The pastor noticing his interest
Ran his hand through Freddy’s hair.
“Those people died for others,
That’s why their names are listed there.

Each member killed in service
Has a plaque that’s hanging here,”
The pastor said with great emotion,
Barely holding back a tear.

Then Freddy asked a question
That caused the others much delight.
“Which service was it Pastor,
Sunday morning or the one on Sunday night?”

Little Freddy had just been exposed to an hour or so of the pastor’s preaching so he was not surprised to hear that people had actually died from similar exposure. He wanted to know which service so that he could avoid them in the future. He had no desire to have his plaque added to the collection.

Heroes, is about boring preachers. My father had an instant remedy; he just went to sleep.


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