white Cadillac white hands

My first remembrance of church was of the ride there
Mama wore white
I wore white
we waited downstairs to be picked up

“Here she comes, let’s go”,
Mama grabbed my hand
walked me to the curb
my eyes squinted
the sun rays blinded my view
the bright white and long
car pulled in front of us

we climbed in and sat on the long back seat
Mama squeezed me close to her
from the drivers seat in front of us
creamy white skin
long wavy black hair spun around
her pretty face smiled at me.

“Love and peace sister”
“Love and peace Pastor” Mama answered back
this white colored lady reached out her white hand
to my chubby brown cheek and squeezed
later I told Mama that I didn’t know there were colored ladies whiter than my Granny
With funny names like Pastor

Mama said Pastor was what we had to call her because she was our leader now
up until now she was leading herself and getting into a whole lot of trouble
now she needed to be led by a servant of God

those soft white hands that squeezed my cheek on our first meeting
faded as did her smile
I would become better acquainted with her hand as time went on

Next Blog: it won’t let me hold my peace

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