The church bell rings, echoing down the holler.
It beckons all to come and join a verse of
Amazing Grace or one of the other cherished hymns.
Everyone gathers, all avoiding that front pew.
The preacher opens his King James echoing 
a 2,000 year old call to repent. He warns of the
fires of Hell and tells of that Holy City built by
God’s own hand. He tells how you should love
your neighbor but keep your nose out of their
business all the while. He tells about that man
named Jesus and the blood stained cross. He 
recounts it like he had been the one who drove
the nails in his hands. He delivers it with such 
passion even the old woman who hasn’t smiled 
in 50 years can’t help but clap her hands and shout
amen. He gives out one final echo asking all to rise
and begs for a sinner to become a saint on a tear
stained alter. After a while he slowly bows his head
hiding a tear for the lost soul that didn’t come and 
quietly says a closing prayer ending with a loud
Amen.