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Reverend Willie Cook was a robust man with black shiny skin, a white
crop of wiry hair that stood straight out like a conductor of sorts
emitting the electricity he generated in the room as he preached, and
gigantic round eyes that peered deep into the soul of every sinner in
the room with a piercing scrutiny. As his voice resonated soft then loud
and louder off the walls of the tiny Baptist Church, beads of sweat
popped out on the furrowed skin of Reverend Willie’s brow during the
heat of God’s Word. When he spoke, his large nostrils flared like, what
Sister Ruby Smith described as those of the stallions of Armageddon,
especially when he became passionate about what he had to say, which was
when he got into the full gallop of his message. Today, Reverend Willie
was speaking on miracles, and he paced back and forth in front of the
pulpit during the last refrains of When the Roll is Called up Yonder and
shuffled his feet nervously like a horse at the starting gate in
anticipation of what he had to say. After Brother Diggs, who was the
official song leader this particular Sunday morning, told the
congregation they could resume their sitting positions on the hard oak
pews, Reverend Willie took hold of the sides of the podium and, panning
the room left to right, looked deep and hard into the eyes of his
congregation, then flashing a grin, with the toss of his head, he
cleared his throat and began speaking God’s word:

“Folks. Has you ever been walking down the street and look on the ground
and see a bright shiny copper penny looking back at you, and surprised,
you pick it up and put it in your pocket. Well, that’s exactly what
miracles is like; bright shiny copper pennies. I tell you, you
ungrateful complaining bunch of sinners, the Good Lord has miracles all
around yo feet. Some folks believe they don’t happen no more, especially
them non believers out there livin’ in the world, so to speak. But I’m
here to tell you, right now, in front of God, yo’ chillen, yo mamas and
daddies, and yo sisters, brothers, cousins and aunties that they does
still take place.”
With that, several
“Amens” were heard in the room as several
congregation members clapped their hands in agreement.
Reverend Willie went on,
“Miracles from Heaven just coming down right,
left and sideways, and all we be doing is whining to de Lawd about all
the stuff we be needing instead of telling him in our prayer time how
grateful we is for what he done give us. The word says that all we need
to do is have the faith of a little mustard seed and powerful things can
happen. Take Brother Jesse sittin over der by his misses, Sister Effie.
He’s a miracle right here in dis room…a hundred shiny pennies type a
miracle…what I calls a silver dollar miracle. Out chasin’ women,
drinking in bars, and playing the devil’s cards wif the food money for
his chillin, but Sister Effie believed, she had faith that her man would
turn from his wicked ways, and
here he be right beside her.” Reverend
Willie’s nostrils began to flare as he said the words, “Brother Jesse,
stand up before God and you Sisters and Brothers here as a testimony to
a mighty miracle.”
As Jessie stood up the congregation began to clap their hands and,
intermittent,
“Amens”
could be heard from a chorus of voices. His face
darkened in color a bit as he gave a proud grin and wiped a tear from
his left eye with the long slender fingers of his redeemed card dealing
hand, then sat back down. As he did, Sister Effie put a hand on her
husband’s strong shoulder and said,
“Thank you Jesus. Amen to dat.”
Stepping in front of the pulpit, Brother Willie continued;
“Now,
Congregation! I’s going to challenge you today to open you eyes right
now, and in a spirit of boldness to raise yo hand and speak da miracles
you see in dis room beside you. Don’t hold back. God’s been good to each
one of us and we need to lift each other up by sharin’ what he’s been
doin’ in our lives.
Ah hah! As da good book says, ‘a child shall lead da way’.
Isaiah
Renfro here done put up his hand to speak
"What you got to declare Child?”
Reverend Willie boomed.
“Stand up and be heard!”
“Yes Sir,"
Isaiah began.
“Dis mornin’ we was getting ready to come to
Sunday School and my mama says, “Iffin that ol car of ours starts, it’ll
be a miracle, and it did. So, we done thanked the Lawd and all of us is
here. Den when we got here, my mama told Serena’s daddy and mama the car
been actin’ bad and her daddy say he gonna fix it for free dis afternoon
cause it needs da carbuator re did, plus Serena’s mama is fixin’ all of
us Sunday supper while he be makin’ da car run good again.”
With that the congregation applauded and the Amen’s floated among the
sea of faces that turned, smiling, in the direction of Serena and her
parents, sitting toward the back of the large room.

Reverend Willie smiled, and said,
“Yes’em Isaiah. Dats a mighty miracle
fo sure. Dat’s a whole jar full of shiny pennies on da ground type of
miracle. Da last mechanic dat I paid God’s money t’ fix my car had him a
set of horns like the devil dat no one could see, and when he was done,
took my money and da car still didn’t run right. I say, dat is a
powerful miracle. Brother Terry, I’d likes to speak to you about my old
Buick after services, if you got a moment,” Reverend Willie stated,
lowering his voice and glancing toward Serena’s father, then winked and
grinned a big grin.
The congregation laughed, as Reverend Willie cleared his throat.
Next to stand was Doc Reeves. Lookin’ toward Sister Grace and her
husband Charles, he stated,
“I sees me five miracles sittin’ in that
pew. I told Sister Grace after she got a dread case of the mumps when
she was fifteen years old and dey went down to her ovaries dat she’d
probably never bear children and she done made a liar outa me and has
five of them, thanks to God’s hand o’ protection, and dats a miracle and
den some.”
“Sister Grace, you and yo chillen stand up please,”
commanded Reverend
Willie. Again the Amens were heard and the clappin’ of hands resonated
off the walls.
“Praise God!” shouted Reverend Willie.
“Ain’t God good?”
he implored. Again, the applause and Amens filled the room. As they did,
Sister’s grace youngest miracle began to cry in her arms, awakened from
a peaceful slumber.
“No sleepin’ during Reverend Willie’s sermons Child,”
Reverend Willie
grinned, radiating a loving glance toward Sister Grace.
Again, the congregation burst into laughter.
Reverend Willie walked back in front of his pulpit, grabbing the corners
of it once more, and leaning forward, shouted,
“I sees many hands up. We
have lots to be thankful for. We has lots to hope for. There is many
dreams just waiting to be born, and many flowers in yo hearts that went
and withered up just waitin’ to bloom again and have dat sweet fragrance
of hope come floating to your nostrils, but you gotta believe. You gotta
have dat mustard seed penny on the ground type of faith. You gotta
expect! And folks, you ain’t going to get nothin’ if you just gives up
and keeps yo eyes closed. So I wants you to promise me…yes promise me…dat
you is going to expect a miracle, and get one….Do you hear me?”
“Yes,” the congregation shouted.
“We hears you Pasta.”
“I’s askin’ you one more time….Folks! Is you going to find a miracle dis
day. Is you going to find it in you own back yard? Is you going to see
it wit yo eyes so dat you know others is on dere way?”
“Yes,”
the congregation shouted.
“We is Pasta! We going to find it.”
“Well, den with dat, now dat I got yo’ word, I’s going to close dis
message with good faith, and know dat you going to spread da word dat
miracles is out der. Remember! The Lawd is being about his busy work,
and, just like anyone else, he appreciates it when someone notices what
he be busy about doing, so maintain yo’ respect, and give yo’ praises to
Him when He got em comin’ and even when yo’ think he don’t, cause da
Lawd do things in strange ways, like da Good Book say, and He may be
cookin’ up a whopper of a miracle just fer you and you to dumb to know
it.”
With that, “Reverend Willie stepped out from the podium that served as
his pulpit, lifted up his hands toward heaven and said,
“Give yo’
neighbor a hug and let’s depart from dis place blessed and smiling after
Brother Diggs lead us in one stanza o’ The Old Rugged Cross.”
Outside the doors of the tiny clapboard church in the hills of
Tennessee, Sister Beatrice gave her preschool Bible Class a basket of
shiny copper pennies and one silver dollar to drop here and there on the
lawn. Encouraging the children, she said,
“Let’s see how many Reverend
Willie finds. Won’t he be surprised!”
Little feet ran here and there, dropping their symbols of miracles on
the grass, the delight of placing an unexpected surprise in the path of
the congregation made them giggle with a sense of gladness.
“Somehow,” Sister Beatrice supposed to herself,
“da good Lawd knew the
feeling they was havin’ going about their work as he went about His…yes
He did!” And pondering that, she smiled to herself, and lookin’ up into
the blue of a heavenly Sunday morning sky, whispered,
“Amen,” as the
rustic doors of the white clapboard church opened, and God’s people
stepped into the warm sunshine of Tennessee.
©
Jennifer Grant |
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