"An' the Graces of God will be forgotten, like the serpent tempting Adam and Eve..."
I yawn, my daddy shootin' a dirty look cross the pew to me. I don' understand why he care too much- I mean I still love God, really I do. But I don' gotta hear 'bout the tempt of sin one mo' time. I kno' Adam an' Eve ate that apple- but I ain't them. I don' even like apples real much- they the least great of all fruit.
An', beside, you'd think there'd be so much ta learn 'bout God- seiin' as he been 'round fo' such a lon' time. But really, in Church alls we talk 'bout is sin, an' the power a God an' I kinda jus' tired of it. Why don' we talk 'bout Jesus mo', or The Virgin Mary- or even- why don' we talk 'bout wha' God actually like, fo' real. Will he punish the men fo' they sins, jus' as much as the women? Will daddy go to Heaven, will I?
"Now if you all join me in son'."
I stand up with daddy an' Mary an' Lloyd an' Miss. Lizabeth, an' Lloyd father- who name I still don' really kno'- the Misses not here due ta her sickness. I don't think she actually sick- she jus' don' wanna sit in this Church, listenin' to the pastor talk on an' on while it real hot. It do scare me how 'like we are sometime, cause I fearful of growin' up ta be like her.
"Ya'll ready," The Pastor say, "'Count a three. 1, 2, 3..."
"Father, we praise Thee, now the night is over; Active and watchful, stand we all before Thee; Singing, we offer, prayer and meditation; Thus we adore Thee," I sin', real quiet beneath my breath first- 'fore daddy send me a look that I sure God don't never give.
Mary jus' as quiet as I- so I don' understand why daddy even care. Maybe it cause Mista Smith ain't watchin' her righ' now- like Lloyd watchin' me. But if I sufferin'- Mary gonna come down with me. I shove my elbow righ' to the skin 'neath her rips, an' motion to sin' louder. The next verse- both our voice grow 'bove everyone else. We both ain't the best singers though- 'specially me. But daddy don' seem to care- we jus gotta be loud.
"Monarch of all things, fit us for Thy mansions; Banish our weakness, health and wholeness sending; Bring us to Heaven, where Thy saints united. Joy without ending."
An' finally it over- the Pastor motionin' fo' us to take a seats. I sigh- cause that was jus' the first one- we still gotta real, real, real lon' time to go. I fan myself with my hand, an' lean back. A real lon' time to go.
I yawn, my daddy shootin' a dirty look cross the pew to me. I don' understand why he care too much- I mean I still love God, really I do. But I don' gotta hear 'bout the tempt of sin one mo' time. I kno' Adam an' Eve ate that apple- but I ain't them. I don' even like apples real much- they the least great of all fruit.
An', beside, you'd think there'd be so much ta learn 'bout God- seiin' as he been 'round fo' such a lon' time. But really, in Church alls we talk 'bout is sin, an' the power a God an' I kinda jus' tired of it. Why don' we talk 'bout Jesus mo', or The Virgin Mary- or even- why don' we talk 'bout wha' God actually like, fo' real. Will he punish the men fo' they sins, jus' as much as the women? Will daddy go to Heaven, will I?
"Now if you all join me in son'."
I stand up with daddy an' Mary an' Lloyd an' Miss. Lizabeth, an' Lloyd father- who name I still don' really kno'- the Misses not here due ta her sickness. I don't think she actually sick- she jus' don' wanna sit in this Church, listenin' to the pastor talk on an' on while it real hot. It do scare me how 'like we are sometime, cause I fearful of growin' up ta be like her.
"Ya'll ready," The Pastor say, "'Count a three. 1, 2, 3..."
"Father, we praise Thee, now the night is over; Active and watchful, stand we all before Thee; Singing, we offer, prayer and meditation; Thus we adore Thee," I sin', real quiet beneath my breath first- 'fore daddy send me a look that I sure God don't never give.
Mary jus' as quiet as I- so I don' understand why daddy even care. Maybe it cause Mista Smith ain't watchin' her righ' now- like Lloyd watchin' me. But if I sufferin'- Mary gonna come down with me. I shove my elbow righ' to the skin 'neath her rips, an' motion to sin' louder. The next verse- both our voice grow 'bove everyone else. We both ain't the best singers though- 'specially me. But daddy don' seem to care- we jus gotta be loud.
"Monarch of all things, fit us for Thy mansions; Banish our weakness, health and wholeness sending; Bring us to Heaven, where Thy saints united. Joy without ending."
An' finally it over- the Pastor motionin' fo' us to take a seats. I sigh- cause that was jus' the first one- we still gotta real, real, real lon' time to go. I fan myself with my hand, an' lean back. A real lon' time to go.
