A lost chapter from the Book of Hesitations

And lo, it shall come to pass
that a time shall come
when the plague shall be forgotten, 
and your children and your children's children,
even unto the third generation,
shall come to you and ask in wonder
why we celebrate the time of the canopy-carrying
by tootling a holy honk, 
and thus you shall tell them
how lo, it came to pass
that in the time of the Coronavirus,
when the people were forbidden to assemble
in the Great Congregation
for fear of contagion,
the people determined to gather
on the Day of Resurrection
(while maintaining social distance);
and so they drove their cars to the place of parking,
between their own lines parked they their cars,
and within each car sat the people,
some wearing homemade masks of calico or camouflage
and one with a stars-and-stripes bandanna wrapped around his face
in the style of a bandit
(though no bandit was he),

and the pastor stood before the assembled cars
and led the people in singing the songs of resurrection
and praying the prayers of comfort and hope,
when suddenly, in the midst of the service,
the skies grew dark
and the wind whipped up
and lo, a raindrop fell on the head of the pastor,
and soon was joined thereunto other raindrops,
each dampening the pastor or his scriptures
or the sound equipment surrounding him
and threatening to inundate the service.

But lo, there arose at the upper edge of the parking lot
a group of ushers, four in number,
who sprang into action in an instant,
for from the back of a truck they drew forth
a folding canopy,
and after drawing its legs to full length
and snapping down its fabric cover,
the ushers lifted the canopy--
each one leg of the canopy carried they them--
and walked it across the parking lot
to where stood before them their pastor,
and lo, they positioned the canopy
to keep the rain off the man of God
and his scriptures
and his sound equipment
(which, truth be told, was not his sound equipment at all
but was borrowed from a local motorcycle group),
but alas! The canopy did not extend far enough
to cover both speakers,
so the ushers retrieved plastic garbage bags
and with Hefty bags covered they them.

And lo, a great noise of praise arose,
as all the congregation, ensconced in their cars, 
saw through their rain-splattered windshields
the valiant work of the canopy-carrying ushers,
and behold, they expressed their appreciation
by tootling a holy honk
with their klaxons of praise
for they rejoiced
that the Coronavirus could not crush their congregation
nor the rain drench their pastor or wash away their worship
for the Day of Resurrection had arrived
and they were exceedingly glad.

A front-row seat at our Easter service.