Read Online Angels by Reba White Williams - Free Book Online Page A

get up and come toward the door. She called up the stairs. “Coleman? Honey, would you come in here a minute?”
    “Yes, ma’am, I’m comin’,” Coleman said, running down the stairs.
    “Honey, come on in here. Say hello to Miss Hatley, Coleman, and then tell me what you said to her about singing in the choir.”
    I tiptoed downstairs and peered through a crack in the door. Coleman was standing up straight, and her chin was up, but her cheeks weren’t red, so I didn’t think she was mad.
    “Good mornin’, ma’am,” she said to Miss Hatley and turned to Miss Ida. “I said the Bible tells us we should make a joyful noise unto the Lord and praise His name—part of worshipin’ is singin’. I said Granny Byrd told me that, and Granny said God made every voice, and He doesn’t think any voice is bad. I said I didn’t know a children’s church choir was like a New Orleans nightclub, where you had to aw-dish-un to get a job. I thought a child who wanted to give the time to choir practice was welcome, because it’s another way to serve the Lord. That’s what they said in Sunday school in New Orleans. I ‘pologize if I said anything wrong. I didn’t mean to sass.”
    Aunt Polly and Miss Ida stared at Miss Hatley, and nobody said anything. Finally, Miss Ida said, “Is that what offended you, Clara?”
    Miss Hatley stuck her nose in the air. “I don’t think it’s a child’s place to preach to a grown-up. You should teach that child to respect her elders, not talk back to them.”
    Miss Ida stood up. “Well, I’m sorry you feel that way, but I don’t think Coleman was impertinent. We’ll have to agree to disagree on that. Have you discussed the situation with Mr. Galloway? Or would you prefer that I speak with him?”
    Mr. Galloway is the Methodist minister, and I could tell Miss Hatley didn’t like his name coming up. She knows Miss Ida will talk to him, and he’ll prob’ly fuss at Miss Hatley for causing a problem. I don’t think she liked Miss Ida standing up like that, letting her know it was time for her to leave, either. But she didn’t have much choice, so she stood up, too.
    “No, I have not discussed it with Mr. Galloway, and I see no reason why you should, either. The choir is my business. Thank you for your time.” She waddled out without saying a word to Aunt Polly or Coleman. Well! Talk about rude .
    “Did I do wrong, Miss Ida?” Coleman asked.
    “No, honey, you didn’t. You just forget all about this.”
    But I knew Coleman wouldn’t forget it. When Miss Ida told Coleman she’d spoken to Reverend Galloway, and he’d ‘pologized, and said she’d be welcome in the choir, Coleman smiled, and thanked Miss Ida and asked her to thank Mr. Galloway, too. But she reckoned she wouldn’t join the choir just now. Well, I wouldn’t, either. I can imagine how that Miss Hatley would treat her. When I asked Coleman if she was mad at Miss Hatley, she said she’d been mad at first, ‘cause Miss Hatley reminded her of that Gloria, tellin’ her she couldn’t sing. But then she just felt sad ‘cause Miss Hatley didn’t feel like Granny about a child singin’ in the choir. “I’m fixin’ to pray for her,” she said. Miss Ida heard her say that and hugged her. “We all will,” she promised.
    Miss Ida and Aunt Polly fixed up a beautiful memorial service for Aunt Olivia, and since she was Coleman’s granny, they asked Coleman if there was anything special she wanted at the service. She asked that Mr. Guthrie read the Twenty-Third Psalm. For hymns, she wanted “Rock of Ages,” and “Nearer My God to Thee.” The women of the church arranged the flowers, and they used all white, with a lot of magnolia blossoms and cape jasmine. The church looked and smelled lovely. It was the first time Coleman had been in our church. I don’t know what she thought of it. To me it’s perfect: plain and white and simple. I think it’s a place God would like.
    The church was full, and a lot of people