Church Folk by Michele Andrea Bowen

Author:Michele Andrea Bowen
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: FIC000000
ISBN: 9780759524644
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2001-06-21T10:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

SISTER SIMMONS, I SURE DO WANNA THANK YOU for making all these pretty clothes for my little grandbaby. Chile, she would've been almost naked without them."

Essie put the box of newly made baby clothes in the woman's arms, smiling at her and wishing she wouldn't carry on over her so. Made her uncomfortable.

"Folks keep saying how you can really sew. But Lawd ha' mercy! Lawd, I think you liked to kick the machine in two when you made these clothings."

"I only made two of the dresses. Mrs. Coral Thomas made the rest. I think you should call her and thank her, too. I know she would appreciate hearing from you."

"Naw. Don't need to do all that. Just as happy to talk to my first lady. Lawd, what my folks gone say when they's find out that my pastor's wife made all these here chirren's clothings for my grandbaby."

Essie had to work real hard not to let this woman hear her sigh out loud. Some church members questioned whether it was even proper for the First Lady to start a Sewing Club, but Essie believed that it was doing God's work to make beautiful baby and maternity clothes for unwed mothers and women down on their luck. Eventually she planned to hold classes to teach the women to sew themselves. The Greater Hope Sewing Club was a great necessity in the Negro community, even if some of the women only came to church when they needed something: "Money to turn my lights on." "Food to tide me over to payday." "Change to catch the bus to the doctor." And on and on.

And now, for this one to refuse to call Mrs. Thomas and thank her was almost an insult. Part of the reason, Essie knew, was that she liked getting "special attention" from the First Lady, but part of it was embarrassment, too—shame at accepting charity from a church member she thought of as her equal, one who had the same standing in the church. She sighed. Being a first lady took a lot of gut-level thinking, as well as patience. It carried a heavy responsibility because it was a ministry in itself.

Stifling her annoyance, Essie opened the front door, hoping the woman wouldn't gush anymore. But she wasn't quite through: "Sister Simmons, I just have to thank you one more, no, two more times. Thank you—Thank you. Don't know how I would have clothed my grandbaby without you."

It crossed Essie's mind that the woman might be lingering because she was trying to get up the nerve to ask for money, as well as the clothes. Then she remembered what Rose Neese once told her—that the only way some folks knew how to get love was to beg for things. Saying a firm good-bye, she hugged the woman, then as she closed her door silently asked the Lord to forgive her for being judgmental toward this woman whom He loved just as much as her.

Essie's eyes now fell on her desk, where a large pile of letters had accumulated, all waiting to be answered.

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