...and I was so short, they’d always give me a crate to stand on so everyone in church could see me do my Easter speech. I don’t remember when I learned that story about my mom. It’s like I’ve always known it. I was the youngest kid in our family, and by the time I came along, she wasn’t doing speeches in church anymore. The last time I remembered her speaking was at the annual Women’s Day Celebration. Standing on things, circa 1930 I knew she was preparing a speech for that day and I’d hear her reciting it from time to time, but teenagers don’t think long and hard about anything outside of themselves and their favorite rock group. I honestly didn’t think much of it. After all, she’d direct the choir or sing solos on occasion, so it wasn’t a completely foreign concept to see her up in front of everyone. For Women’s Day Sunday, all women in the congregation would be decked out in white, some wearing what I call Baptist Hats . The big extravagant kind, some tast...
Finding out everyday that sometimes, late is right on time.