Mother to Son

 by Langston Hughes

Well, son, I tell you:

Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair. 

Jane Shelby 
1864-1954

It had tacks in it,

And splinters,

And boards torn up,

And places with no carpet on the floor—Bare.

Unknown Location in Jasper County, Texas
Photo by Alonzo Jordan 

But all the time

I’se been a-climbin’ on,

And reachin’ landin’s,

And turnin’ corners,

And sometimes goin’ in the dark

Where there ain’t been no light.

Unknown Children
Photo by Alonzo Jordan 

So boy, don’t you turn back.

Don’t you set down on the steps

’Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.

Don’t you fall now—

Louisa Jordan Wife of Isaac “Ike” Limbrick 
1846-1939

And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

 Dinner On The Ground

There is nothing more southern than dinner-on-the-ground. These potluck get togethers were held yearly and were usually a part of the church homecoming celebration. Family and friends returned home from faraway places to join the festivities. It was a special occasion; a feast for the soul and the stomach. 

As a child in Southeast Texas, I grew up with dinner-on-the-ground at Dixie Missionary Baptist Church in the Dixie Community of rural Jasper County. Every year, the families whose ancestors had been a part of the church for decades gathered in the church for a sermon and singing. After the service, we poured out of the church and gathered under the surrounding shade trees. Permanent wood tables, built from scraps of lumber and often held up by sawhorses, were laden with a feast that would feed the entire community. Almost any southern dish you could name was likely to be found: Fried chicken, ham, chicken and dumplings, black eyed peas, turnip greens, potato salad, green beans, cornbread dressing, and more. But we all couldn’t wait to get to the dessert table: Pound cake, peach and blackberry cobbler, pecan pie, banana pudding, sweet potato pie, and jelly cake to name a few. And at the end of the last table were jugs of sweet tea wash it all down. 

Dinner-on-the-ground isn’t what it used to be. The fellowship is still there and families still gather, but most meals are served inside air conditioned church activity centers. The food is different as well. There are more store bought and restaurant prepared items. Nothing can replace those old fashioned outdoor dinner-on-the-ground homecomings. 

Some Memories Never Fade

In 1967 I was twelve years old sitting in a classroom at George Washington Carver Elementary School in Jasper County, Texas. We heard the sirens and within a few minutes our teacher, Mr. John Henry Mitchell, was beckoned to the door. We couldn’t hear what was being said, but Mr Mitchell’s facial expression told us it was something serious. He returned to the room and stood before the class and said “The church is on fire”. The room was still and quiet. We didn’t have to ask which church. 

Dixie Missionary Baptist Church was a fixture in the community, the county, and the southeast Texas area. Almost all of the students and faculty of  G. W. Carver were members there. My own family legacy began there. The church’s founder, Richard Seale, was my maternal third great grandfather. I was baptized there, attended church and Sunday school there, went to family funeral services there, and socialized and felt a family closeness there.

Sometimes people ask if you remember where you were when certain events occurred. I just say some memories never fade. This is one of them. 

Miss Millie’s Fried Fish 

I smile when I see this picture of my granddaughter. She was only eight years old,  but she chose to order the whole fried catfish when we took her out to dinner. I was reminded of a funny experience my sister and I had when we were about her age. 

 

When I was a kid, my sister and I rode along with our grandaunt, Eva, when she ran her errands. Sometimes we made stops along the way to check on elderly relatives, visited church folks, or just to say hello to people sitting on their front porches. My sister and I weren’t too keen on these inadvertently stops. We were only interested in whatever destination Auntie had originally set out for. As I reminisce, I now see those out of the way stops were little life lessons. 

One of my favorite memories is a visit to Miss Millie’s house. She and her husband were an older couple who lived alone at the time. Their house was small and dark, but it was spotless and inviting. Auntie sat and chatted with them while my sister and I went outside to play in the clean swept, grassless yard. I don’t remember what we played, but we probably found sticks and drew pictures in the dirt. Or maybe we drew a hopscotch and made a game of that. The smooth, hard packed ground was perfect for drawing. Soon, however, Ms Millie called us inside. The aroma of fried fish greeted us. Miss Millie handed us each a small plate with a tiny fried fish; head, tail, and scales still attached. The appetizing aroma vanished as we stared at the tiny creature and it seemed to stare back at us. Recognizing our hesitation, Auntie reminded us to say “thank you”. We could tell she expected us to be gracious and eat what we were being served. So, as not disobey Auntie or insult Miss Millie’s generosity, we painstakingly ate the fish while trying to avoid the scales and the eyes that stared at us. 

I know now the lesson I was being taught; When someone offers you the only thing they have to offer, be gracious, kind, and accepting. Miss Millie was sharing what she had.  Maybe all she had. When people who have little else to share they share their food. Food is more than just sustenance. In this case it was an expression of caring.

Thank you Miss Millie for teaching me that being a gracious recipient is a gift you give to the giver. 

Timothy 4:4

For everything God created is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving