Up is down, and down is up. No rules that we can recognize.”
“I like the sound of that. I’m tired of the rules. We live with ones we make and too many that are made for us, and I’m ready to do with- out. I think the trick is knowing when you’re where you’re supposed to be, and letting go of everything else long enough to be there.” Then she waved her hand in front of her face like she was erasing a chalkboard full of scribble. “Give me one of those Reese’s Cups, will you, honey?”
I reached into the glass cookie jar that’s her goody stash. “What makes you want to talk about God and dying, in the morning of all times? You’ve heard as many preachers as I have.”
“Because Lorraine,” she said, her mouth full of chocolate, “you’ve got faith.” She stuck out her hand with part of the candy still in it. “I don’t want the other one, it’s too much. That’s why I like the single Reese’s Cups better, but seems like you can’t get them anytime except at Halloween.”
April is unwrapping my last piece of hard candy for me, I must have
been rattling paper and didn’t know it. She taps my arm and reaches out to me with candy in her open palm. It’s about time the sermon’s finished; my left leg is asleep so I pull myself forward with my hand on the back of the pew in front of us and uncross it. I can’t tell you what Reverend Knowles talked about this morning, I’m thinkin too much. Mama used to tell me, “Lorraine, you think too much when you’re in church, that’s not the place to think, just listen and learn.” I disagreed with her then and I still do. I am proud to death to have April here. She looks so content and happy. I think she really is happy. I look at her hair, her hands folded in her lap, my heart feels like it’s gon bust open.
“Sing, choir.” Reverend Knowles’s arms are raised, his robe drap- ing down makes him look like an angel wearing purple.
I don’t feel no ways tired . . .
Everybody in the front is swaying to the music, some people in the congregation have got their hands up.
I’ve come too far from where I started from . . .
“Sing children, praise God.” Reverend Knowles keeps on talking over the choir.
Nobody told me that the road would be easy . . .
I don’t believe He brought me this far . . . I can’t believe He brought me this far . . .
I won’t believe He brought me this far to leave me.
“Oh no I won’t, no. I don’t feel no ways tired.” Reverend Knowles’s voice is like medicine. “We’ve all been through more than we ever thought we would. And some of us have suffered more than anybody
ought to have to. I have seen my share of suffering in the faces of many I love, some of them sitting here this morning.”
I spot Althea way in the back, I don’t have any idea when she came in. She points to her watch and makes a frown, mouthing “I’m sorry” real exaggerated so I can see her. That’s all right, she made it. Every- body in here this morning got up and made it.
“Will you keep on walking, children?” Reverend Knowles has left the pulpit and is standing down front. “When your hope is gone, will you hold your head up and walk? When it’s time to move, my sisters and brothers, as long as we’ve got legs, then praise God let us learn to use them. One more step, one more day. Sing now, choir.”
I don’t believe He brought me this far to leave me.
I do love the sound of this song. Althea’s arms are up in the air over her head, swaying back and forth with everybody else, her gaze is lifted and eyes are closed. I reach over and put my hand on top of April’s and when she looks up, I stare straight out in front of me, smil- ing like I’m encouraging the choir. I am, I reckon, in my way.
ch a p t e r s i x
Margaret
I
have been sitting in the dining room cutting hearts out of pink paper and gluing them to squares of red construction paper for two hours. I’ve only done five. It takes me a long
“I like the sound of that. I’m tired of the rules. We live with ones we make and too many that are made for us, and I’m ready to do with- out. I think the trick is knowing when you’re where you’re supposed to be, and letting go of everything else long enough to be there.” Then she waved her hand in front of her face like she was erasing a chalkboard full of scribble. “Give me one of those Reese’s Cups, will you, honey?”
I reached into the glass cookie jar that’s her goody stash. “What makes you want to talk about God and dying, in the morning of all times? You’ve heard as many preachers as I have.”
“Because Lorraine,” she said, her mouth full of chocolate, “you’ve got faith.” She stuck out her hand with part of the candy still in it. “I don’t want the other one, it’s too much. That’s why I like the single Reese’s Cups better, but seems like you can’t get them anytime except at Halloween.”
April is unwrapping my last piece of hard candy for me, I must have
been rattling paper and didn’t know it. She taps my arm and reaches out to me with candy in her open palm. It’s about time the sermon’s finished; my left leg is asleep so I pull myself forward with my hand on the back of the pew in front of us and uncross it. I can’t tell you what Reverend Knowles talked about this morning, I’m thinkin too much. Mama used to tell me, “Lorraine, you think too much when you’re in church, that’s not the place to think, just listen and learn.” I disagreed with her then and I still do. I am proud to death to have April here. She looks so content and happy. I think she really is happy. I look at her hair, her hands folded in her lap, my heart feels like it’s gon bust open.
“Sing, choir.” Reverend Knowles’s arms are raised, his robe drap- ing down makes him look like an angel wearing purple.
I don’t feel no ways tired . . .
Everybody in the front is swaying to the music, some people in the congregation have got their hands up.
I’ve come too far from where I started from . . .
“Sing children, praise God.” Reverend Knowles keeps on talking over the choir.
Nobody told me that the road would be easy . . .
I don’t believe He brought me this far . . . I can’t believe He brought me this far . . .
I won’t believe He brought me this far to leave me.
“Oh no I won’t, no. I don’t feel no ways tired.” Reverend Knowles’s voice is like medicine. “We’ve all been through more than we ever thought we would. And some of us have suffered more than anybody
ought to have to. I have seen my share of suffering in the faces of many I love, some of them sitting here this morning.”
I spot Althea way in the back, I don’t have any idea when she came in. She points to her watch and makes a frown, mouthing “I’m sorry” real exaggerated so I can see her. That’s all right, she made it. Every- body in here this morning got up and made it.
“Will you keep on walking, children?” Reverend Knowles has left the pulpit and is standing down front. “When your hope is gone, will you hold your head up and walk? When it’s time to move, my sisters and brothers, as long as we’ve got legs, then praise God let us learn to use them. One more step, one more day. Sing now, choir.”
I don’t believe He brought me this far to leave me.
I do love the sound of this song. Althea’s arms are up in the air over her head, swaying back and forth with everybody else, her gaze is lifted and eyes are closed. I reach over and put my hand on top of April’s and when she looks up, I stare straight out in front of me, smil- ing like I’m encouraging the choir. I am, I reckon, in my way.
ch a p t e r s i x
Margaret
I
have been sitting in the dining room cutting hearts out of pink paper and gluing them to squares of red construction paper for two hours. I’ve only done five. It takes me a long
Similar Books
