Class reading time was my favorite. We arranged our seats in a circle, and Mrs. Hayes read the first line of a new story. Each child took a turn reading the next line until everyone had read a sentence. My favorite stories were the ones with humor. If I found a story extremely funny, I would feel the laughter rising up through my bones. My mouth started to curl up at the sides, and the hilarity filled me inside until I could contain it no longer and it spilled out in peals of hysterical laughter. I laughed so hard that sometimes I fell out of my chair. At times, when it was my turn, I would have to stop reading my line and think of something very serious, just to find the composure to continue. Mrs. Hayes must have enjoyed my delight because she always treated me with patience. She made a lasting impression on me that I carry to this day.
At night, when Mama had company, I entertained Robbie by reading the books I borrowed from the school library. We sat under the stairs by the small door so we would go unnoticed. Robbie loved the stories as much as I did and would sit still the entire time.
“What is that wud?” he asked, pointing to the book.
I followed along with my finger as I read very slowly, allowing him to see what each word was. He was entranced, cuddling close to me and putting his head on my shoulder.
As the story unfolded, it seemed to come alive around us. Robbie and I entered the world of
The Princess and the Frog
. I was the Princess. We were so engrossed that I did not notice the man until he tapped me on the shoulder.
“Hey kid, why don't you go with your sister and get some ice cream?”
I had never seen this man before. Mama had many male friends over, and I tried to stay out of their reach. This one wore blue coveralls and smelled of automobile oil. He reached out a hand with fingernails stained black. I could hear the tinkle of spare change. Tentatively, I reached out my hand, and he dropped the coins onto my palm.
I wanted ice cream, but it was already getting dark outside. Without making eye contact with the man, I already knew that I could not call out to Mama and ask her to come along. That was not the point. The man wanted us out of the house.
I called to Nellie, who spent most of her time alone on the second floor. She came down, and the three of us walked into downtown Spartanburg, South Carolina. This was not the first time we'd been sent out of the house. We found the ice cream shop right away. It was not busy, so we got our cones in no time at all. I knew we had to find something to do to occupy more time, so we started to wander the streets. It is amazing that the police did not pick us up for runaways, especially considering the dirty torn-up rags we wore for clothing.
From down the block, I heard voices floating around the corner. Normally, I would avoid people, especially when we were alone at dusk, but the sound was like a strange beacon. It drew me toward it until I rounded onto the next street. That is when I saw the church.
The building was enormous and sat on a wide-open lot behind a paved parking lot. A spotlight illuminated the white steeple, and other lights blazed under the overhang as the crowd spilled out between the two white support columns.
I stood as still as a tree as I watched the people and stared at the church. Robbie tugged at my arm, wanting to keep walking, but I didn't want to move. Nellie stood watching beside me. By the time we got home, the strange man was gone.
In the days following that night, I returned to that spot by the church. Each time, I got closer and closer until I finally went inside. The sight took my breath away. The building was huge but warm, with tall stained-glass windows and red-cushioned pews that were soft and clean. A balcony hung over the aisle, and I could see the pipes of an organ rising from the shadows above.
From that day on, I went to church every Sunday. I brought Robbie with me, and I worked real hard to clean us up before leaving the house. I loved being surrounded by the pretty dressed-up ladies and the men in suits. Wearing the cleanest dirty dress I owned, I guided Robbie down the aisle, and we slipped into the end of a pew. I could not wait for the time when the choir director asked us to pick up our hymnbooks and sing. I stood straight and tall between all the adults, holding my hymnbook open. When the music started, I sang my heart out and soared above the world.
At first, I sang line after line, like reading a book. I quickly realized that I was not singing the same words as everyone else. I was confused and wondered why everyone else was singing the wrong song. Then the Lord sent a kind woman standing beside me to show me how to sing the right way from a hymnbook.
“You read each top line first, until we get to the second verse.”
She patiently showed me the way. Soon, I was singing along in perfect unison with everyone else, with a huge smile on my face.
The adults were kind to me, and I listened to everything the preacher had to say. Even though I was too young to understand it all, I bowed my head for the prayer and sat quietly through each service. Robbie squirmed and wiggled and wanted to play, but he stayed in his seat. My faith grew during each service, and I wanted to know more.
I loved the feeling of the churchâhow clean it was and the wonderful words of the preacher. Singing, however, was what kept me coming back Sunday after Sunday. Many times I went alone. I walked those blocks in every kind of weather. Once I picked up the songbook and sang, happiness flooded my soul. The words floated out, echoing off the floors and walls and resonating in my heart. It was alive, and I felt it deep inside me. Singing became an expression of everything I had ever felt in my soul but could not express.
Unfortunately, our condition
at home did not improve. Even I began to understand what was wrong with Mama. She was drinking. As time passed, new signs of her illness appeared. Men kept on calling at the house late at night, and she woke up hungover and sick most mornings. We ran out of food some days, and Nellie and I never did have a lunch to bring to school or money to spend. Instead, we would go hide behind the janitors building while the other children ate lunch in the cafeteria.
One day, Nellie had a brilliant idea. As we crouched behind the squat shed filled with mops and brooms, she turned to me.
“Why don't we just start recess a little early?”
My eyes brightened and she laughed. When she ran out to the back of the school, I followed close behind. We found the swings and the slides empty of children. It was our own private playtime, and for a while I forgot how hungry I was.
It was great! We had our choice of swings or slide. I had never had such freedom before. I found the perfect tree in the far corner of the playground and pulled myself up, branch by branch, as if reaching for the heavens. My dress caught and my hem tore, but I paid it no mind. When I climbed, I could fly. When I reached as I high as I could go, I looked down. I felt alive and free up in the top of that tree and was sure I could fly like the birds as they soared through the air.
As I sat on a branch near the top, my stomach growled. I hovered there, in between two worlds. I did not think ahead to what the next day might bring, nor was I thinking back to what had happened with Daddy or Aunt Tessie. I was just there, enjoying the trees.
From down the block, I heard the sound of my brother's laughter. It carried on the wind like a phantom. I moved a branch away from in front of my face and searched in that direction. The joyous sound came closer.
“Robbie?” I called out.
From where she sat on the swings, Nellie called back. “What are you yelling about?”
Before I could answer, Mama appeared. Somehow she knew we were on that playground. She stood outside the fence and didn't try to come in. She held a large brown paper bag from the grocery store in one arm. Robbie was with her, holding her hand.
Even from atop the tree, I could see the melted chocolate on his cheeks and chin. A half-eaten candy bar dangled from his other hand. He was laughing and dancing about, the sugar doing wonders for his already active constitution.
“Frances! Nellie!” Mama called out.
I scurried down the tree like a squirrel, almost beating Nellie over to where Mama leaned on the fence. She was smiling cheerfully.
“I got you some lunch,” she said.
She opened the brown grocery bag and showed us its contents. It was filled almost to the top with huge bunches of bananas and all sorts of candy bars. I giggled at Robbie, who was smiling from ear to ear. He took a huge bite of that chocolate as Mama handed the bag over the fence to Nellie.
“Where did you get the candy and bananas?”
I was surprised that she was awake this time of day.
“I wanted you to have some lunch, honey. I stopped at the store up the street.”
I was beyond happy. The fact Mama had taken the time to walk all the way to the store, buy lunch, and bring it to us meant everything to me. Regardless of what it was she brought us, she had brought us lunch. Mama left us on the playground. I watched her walk down the sidewalk, Robbie in tow. His little feet skipped beside her.
“Bye, Mama,” I called, waving.
She turned and blew me a kiss. The recess bell rang and children poured out onto the school grounds. They gathered around me and Nellie. Instantly, Mama's lunch made us popular. All the children wanted to be our friends that day. There was plenty to share, and Nellie opened the large sack to everyone.
The bananas and chocolate were the perfect lunch from a third grader's perspective. Most parents, though, would not imagine that as a healthy meal for growing children. None of that mattered to me. That moment stuck with me forever. It was the confirmation of what I knew all along: no matter what had happened to us, Mama loved me! And I would carry that truth through the doubt and darkest hours of my life and hold it in triumph when I found the light. My mama loved me!
I was sitting
in the living room reading a book when I glanced up.
“What is that?” I asked, looking out the window.
The sun had set, but the sky glowed soft gray. Laying the book down, I went to the window to get a better look. My heart beat faster when I saw it againâtiny white specks falling from the sky. One touched the glass and disappeared, leaving behind its small wet fingerprint.
“That's snow,” Mama said from behind me.
With that word, Nellie and Robbie came running. They crowded around me to stare out the little window. The house was drafty, but their warmth filled me as I stood amazed by the sight. We could hardly contain ourselves.
“I'm gonna make a snowman!”
“I want to go sledding!”
Only one thing dimmed my excitement. I turned back and looked into Mama's face.
“Does this mean we won't have school tomorrow?”
Mama smiled at us. Her eyes looked clear and beautiful. I hugged her around the waist and she patted my head.
“We don't know if it will be snowing in the morning,” she said. “Let's all get to bed and you'll find out when you get up.”
“Aww,” Nellie and Robbie moaned.
Mama ushered us to our shared bedroom. Although the house was large and had many rooms, we slept together for warmth. She sat down on the edge of the bed while we piled in and snuggled under the thin blanket.
“Anyone want to hear a bedtime story?” she asked.
All three of us yelled out in unison.
“Yeah!”
“I want âThwee Pigs,' ” Robbie shouted.
“No,” Nellie said. “Mama, tell us âLittle Match Girl.'”
As she told us the story, I kept watching the window. More and more flakes touched the glass and melted away.
After the story, Mama spread a moth-eaten quilt over our blanket.
“Go to sleep now,” she whispered. “I'll see you in the morning.”
She leaned over the bed and kissed each of us on the cheek. I fell asleep wondering if we would have snow on the ground when we awoke.
The next morning
I thought we were having an earthquake! I woke up to the bed shaking. When I opened my eyes, though, I saw Robbie jumping up and down on the mattress.
“It's snow! It's snow!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.
I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes. From the bedroom window I could see a blanket of pure white covering everything in sight. It was still falling in large, soft flakes. It was probably about six inches, but to me it was the most amazing blizzard in the history of the planet. When Nellie saw it, she nearly did a backflip. Robbie, on the other hand, just ran out the door with no shoes on.
Mama was there to shoo him back inside. It was the earliest I'd seen Mama up and about in a long time. When I looked up at her pretty face, her eyes still looked clear. At the same time, there seemed to be a sadness hanging over her.
“Are you okay, Mama?”
“Of course I'm all right, worrywart,” she laughed it off.
I was still suspicious. I didn't have a word for what I felt, but I thought about the meetings we'd had with the principal.
“Come on,” Mama said, her voice sounding excited now. “Snow like this is as rare as hounds' teeth.”