I remember mama, her friends, neighborhood and church women well.
I remember the smell of sweet scents.
I remember the taste and love of mama’s food and church food.
I remember southen accents.
I remember proud and dignified women and men.
I remember family and friendship.
I remember children playing and their laughter.
I remember when grace was more than just a prayer.
I remember when community cared and children felt loved.
I remember saturday mornings, radios, cartoons and chores.
I remember mama’s grits and fish.
I remember awakening to mama in the kitchen baking country biscuits.
I remember precious library books and my little girl poems.
I remember dreaming Harlem dreams, dreams I was taught were not impossible
by teachers who dreamed dreams for us students.
I remember pain, sorrow and God’s healing power.
I remember, I remember, I remember.
© Lorraine Currelley 2012. All Rights Reserved. Unauthorized duplication of this material without express and written permission from this author is strictly prohibited.