St. Barnabas has a 10AM midweek Eucharist on Wednesdays. It's a small group; they are faithful and very engaged. We often sit for 30-40 minutes after the service and discuss the saint of the day, the readings, and what message we each heard. Ken, who is 85, sometimes tells WWII stories. Some of the other folks, mostly life-long Berlin residents, tell stories from their earlier years.
Eventually, some of the ladies head off to deal with all of the altar guild stuff. They clear up the chapel from the Wednesday service and they set up in the main sanctuary for the Sunday service. I wander around, get in the way, and make them laugh.
Then, a group of us go out to lunch. At lunch, we continue to visit and tell stories. I hear how people are. They update me on health concerns and life events. I learn about children and grandchildren (and even in some cases, great grandchildren). G and L bicker back and forth, much to our amusement (because we all know they really love each other). I learn more St. Barnabas history. I learn about the old days of Berlin. We laugh, we tease, we eat from a communal vat of onion rings. Today, G stole baked beans off my plate, while I ate Little Betty's potato chips.
Wednesdays aren't the most productive of my days. But they are so much fun. I love the conversation, the companionship, the playfulness. And, I love the way Wednesdays have helped me to deepen my relationship with a wonderful group of folks.