Flumes Vol. 6: Issue 1, Summer 2021 | Page 19

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From the choir-loft, though I couldn’t hear the exchange between Pastor and Sister Quinn, their gestures mimed the story: Pastor’s head shook an emphatic “No!” With Sister Quinn still pressing him, he walked away and headed toward his Study. That’s when I started my song, deliberately altering the words, to tell the story of a shoe-less Jesus.

The Son of Man

Who walked in Galilee

The Son of Man, had no shoes on Calvary.

The Son of Man was despised like you and me

And the Son of Man will come again,

And a child shall take the lead!

Said the Man of Galilee...

Before Pastor could fully exit the Sanctuary, my song kept drawing him back, to listen. At last, I saw him give Sister Quinn a sign, with a little flick of his hand and a nod, and she signed to us in the choir, to let me know I’d gotten my song back.

At service, I could see my mother and father in the pews, their faces beaming with pride as the congregation applauded me, in a high Spirit! After church, I got kissed and squeezed and mashed and hugged. But, before I could reach the baptismal pool to retrieve my shoes, my father spotted my feet.

“Where your shoes at, Addie Pearl? Your mama let you out the house like this?”

“Naw, Benjamin, she wore her shoes. Sister Quinn say they in the baptizing pool.”

“Baptizing pool?! What they doing in there?”

“I reckon they getting baptized.”

When I reappeared wearing the shoes, my father looked at them, as if seeing

them for the first time, and turned away, in shame.

yard, clutching his hat and conscious of the eyes on him, will be with me forever!