Wisdom Seeds (5 page)

Reverend Allen held the heartstrings of the community as a loving father with two prodigal sons. He spearheaded the Big Brother program and hosted their annual picnic in our backyard. Over the past ten years he had ordained twelve young men from his Big Brother program. There could have been one hundred of them, but my dad would never feel completely redeemed because he had two sons who had spent years distancing themselves from the family and the church.

Mom summed him up by saying he was a very good man who was disappointed about a lot of things in life. “He loves us,” Mom told me several times, as if she needed to convince me – and maybe herself. Even though he was from a line of preachers, my dad always felt his father dropped the ball and didn't get it right – so that became his job.

It's ironic that my dad always talked about how important it was to love God. With my dad's love as my only example, loving a God I couldn't see was difficult. My dad never gave me all that I desired from him. I wanted to be his little girl, I needed to be his princess, and I longed to feel his unconditional love. The love my dad talked so much about was only evident from the pulpit. If my dad had been a bus driver, we would have spent the summers touring the country – pipe dreams.

My life changed forever on a sticky, hot Saturday in June of 1980. I arrived at the Trailways bus station in downtown Pittsburgh at 6:45 p.m. My cousins were wearing Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority tee shirts, like we planned. Andrea wore white jeans with white canvas sneakers that looked new. Her hair was flawlessly curled in spite of the heat. Alicia's hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She looked more like a high school student with her cut-off jeans and green flip-flops. Andrea seemed taller and Alicia seemed thinner.

“Danielle Allen,” Alicia said hugging me. “You look exactly the same.”

“I'll take that as a compliment, but I like this hairstyle better than the Shirley Temple curls.” I was a little unsure of who was who, and consciously did not address them by name.

“You look like me,” Andrea smiled. “You must favor your dad. I'm Andrea,” she said pointing to herself. “I'm the twin that looks like the Allen's.”

Andrea and Alicia were fraternal twins. I remembered them looking a lot more alike than they did now.

Pittsburgh was much nicer than I had imagined. Its steel town image of dusty mill clouds was not evident as we drove along Penn Avenue. Bloomfield was the Italian community and Garfield was picture of urban America. We drove through the business district in East Liberty and turned onto Linden Avenue in Point Breeze. It was a professional community that had once been a statement of prominence for African Americans who were able to move in.

Their street was a one-block cul-de-sac and their house was third from the corner. We pulled into the driveway of their red brick house and after a quick tour of the essentials – bathroom, kitchen, game room – Andrea showed me to the guest room. I decided to unpack later and joined my cousins in the living room.

“There's a PUMP meeting tonight.” Alicia threw the flyer onto the coffee table as I sat on the couch.

“What's PUMP?” I asked, reading the acronym Professionally Upward Mobile People.

“It's a nice crowd, business cards are passed, opportunities are made, you know networking kind of stuff,” Andrea added.

“And they party a little, too!” Alicia smiled and winked at me. “Just don't go in looking for a man. Keep it social Baby Cuz – you'll have fun.”

Even though I was tired from the bus ride and hadn't unpacked, I decided to tag along with them. My social life over the past two years had been dismal and going out didn't seem like such a bad idea.

Gregory Henderson caught my eye as we entered the Student Union. He was a gorgeous hunk of chocolate sculpted into a priceless masterpiece. His tapered haircut and mustache accentuated his cheekbones and his eyes. The short sleeves of his knit shirt cuffed his biceps and his tailor made pants hugged his behind.

“Stop staring,” Andrea nudged me. “Let me introduce you to some people.”

She introduced me to the group of people gathered by the window. William Christopher was in the Doctoral Education program at Duquesne University and his wife, Marcella, was a Production Engineer; Yvonna Thomas was a theater major at Carnegie Mellon University; Connie Brown
owned a chain of child care centers; Dave Jenkins owned a remodeling company; Kim Lewis was an attorney; Jeanette and Victor Gardner owned a chain of hair salons which offered apprenticeships in hair care; Brandon Mitchell was an orthodontist; and Deanna Sanford was a medical student. She never introduced me to the chocolate brother.

I was trying to decide between cranberry juice and apple juice when he came up behind me.

“So you're new too?”

“Does it show?”

“I saw you being overwhelmed with all those introductions.”

“So you've met?” Alicia interrupted, joining us at the snack bar.

“Well not really,” I told her. “Hi, I'm Danielle.” I extended my hand to him. “And you are?”

“Gregory Henderson.” He smiled showing two rows of perfect teeth.

Before I could respond, Andrea was standing between us.

“Girl, I've been looking for you. I want you to meet someone.” She led me by the arm away from Gregory. “Baby Cuz, you're looking a little goo-goo eyed.”

“I am not!” I pulled away from her, mindfully trying not to show the attitude I felt coming on.

We stopped outside the double doors in the hallway.

“You are so,” she stated with her teeth clenched tightly. “And we told you don't come in here looking for a husband. This is just social.”

“I'm trying to be social,” I replied being conscious of my voice level. “I just met the brother, his name is Gregory.”

“Dani,” Andrea turned to face me, “you're from a small town where everybody knows everybody.”

“Andrea, I'm not fourteen-years old,” I snapped.

“I know.” Her tone softened as she put her hand on my shoulder. “I don't want you to get hurt. I don't know this Gregory – he's new here too. Be careful.”

One of the women I had just met opened the door and called her. Andrea stopped at the door and turned to look at me. “Please be careful Cuz.”

“Careful,” I said out loud to myself. “I'm not trying to marry the man.”

The rest of the evening was spent sipping cranberry juice, smiling and holding superficial conversations with people whose names I couldn't remember. The lights were dim and there were too many people to look for Gregory.

On the way home Andrea talked about PUMP being a meat market. My stomach tightened because her comments were directed at me. This was not starting out good and I sincerely wanted to have a memorable time with my cousins over the summer.

The alarm clock rang and I thought I was dreaming.

“It's eight o'clock Dani. Do you want to eat before we leave for Sunday School?” Andrea's voice was bubbly.

“Sunday School?” I mumbled.

“Yes you PK! Do you think you're the only one who knows about Sunday School?”

“I haven't been to Sunday School since the twelfth grade,” I confessed. “When did you start going to Sunday School?”

She turned up the tape player. “When I got saved last year.”

“I don't have anything to wear, I haven't unpacked yet.” I tried not to sound like I was whining.

Alicia came out of the bathroom and stood in the doorway. “That's okay, the Lord says come as you are and
so did the Pastor.” They laughed and I thought about my dad. He demanded everyone be meticulously dressed for church on Sunday.

“You can wear something of mine,” Alicia added before I could come up with another excuse to stay in bed.

“You'll enjoy the service,' Andrea told me as I headed for the shower. “Our church is a home for everyone who is sick of the foolishness of man interfering with the sacred things of God.”

I wasn't sure what she meant and didn't feel like asking her to explain.

Alicia and Andrea had the cutest bathroom. Hanging over the towel rack was a picture of their mother with her sorority sisters. Each one was wrapped in a pink bathrobe with an ivy leaf embroidered on the lapel. Aunt Sharon had been an AKA, too. She died nine months after being diagnosed with breast cancer.

“Hey, save some water,” Andrea knocked on the door. I tried to hurry, not wanting us to be late on account of me. When I got out of the shower I could hear my cousins talking in Andrea's room. Hard as I was trying to eavesdrop, I couldn't make out what they were saying over the music. Wrapped in a towel, I detoured to the kitchen for a glass of orange juice before heading back to my room. The brown pants suit was waiting for me.

Andrea drove a green Chevette and, of course, there was plenty of AKA paraphernalia and a pink rabbit on the back seat. I sat behind Alicia and tried to hide my disappointment about the pants suit. The pants were tight and the jacket was fitted. It felt too small.

“What about you?” Alicia asked. “Where do you stand with Christ? Are you saved?”

“My dad reminds me, every chance he gets, that I need to be more serious about Jesus. I'm not even sure I know what being Saved means,” I confessed trying not to sound cynical.

“Stop playing girl!” Alicia turned in her seat to look back at me.

“I'm not playing. I really don't know.”

“What?” Alicia responded in disbelief. “Miss Gotta Go To Church at least four days a week, sing in the choir, usher, and to everything else cause I'm the Preacher's Kid.”

“Alicia!” Andrea cut her off. “It's okay Dani. A lot of people don't really know what salvation means. And some might never know because people assume they already know and don't tell them.” Andrea glanced at Alicia several times, seemingly to give some message that Alicia didn't get or was choosing to ignore. Then she continued, looking at me in the rear view mirror as she drove. “Being saved means accepting Jesus as your Lord and Savior. Admitting you are a sinner and you're sorry for those sins. It's believing that Jesus was born of a virgin, died on the cross for your sins and rose after three days. It's believing that God forgives you and has washed you clean with the shedding of Jesus' blood at Calvary.” Andrea spoke with sincerity.
“If you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, thou shall be saved. Romans 10:9.”
She added smiling.

“For God so loved,”
Alicia began and I finished with her,
“the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. John 3:16.”

“Nana taught me that when I was a little girl.” I smiled thinking of her and the memory of learning that scripture.

“It's in there,” Andrea smiled. “Stop fighting it.”

“Girl, being saved is knowing you don't have to do this life thing by yourself.” Alicia's tone softened. “It's knowing Jesus is always with you.”

We arrived at The Sanctuary and it was huge compared to St. Luke's. I noticed some of the people from the PUMP meeting in the parking lot and scanned the crowd for Gregory. He wasn't there. That was okay, I had on Alicia's pants suit and it wasn't something I would have bought, but it matched my shoes.

As the service began I thought about St. Luke's. Mom would be sitting in the second row, aisle seat, left of the pulpit. She would be humming Blessed Assurance with her eyes closed. I thought about Nana and closed my eyes to thank her for teaching me scriptures so I didn't feel like a complete dunce. I thought about the previous night and wondered if I would see Gregory again.

The preacher talked about the Lord being our keeper. He read from Psalms 121:5 – 8:

The Lord is your keeper; the Lord is your shade at your right hand. The sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord shall preserve you from all evil; He shall preserve your soul. The Lord shall preserve your going out and your coming in from this time forth and even forevermore.

Jesus as a keeper. Nana had also talked about Jesus being the perfect keeper. I wanted to be kept by Him and decided to take going to church more seriously.

My cousins and I spent the evening trying to get caught up. Alicia was a high school math teacher. She had contemplated going back to get her doctorate before realizing she really enjoyed teaching and her master's degree would suffice. Her boyfriend, Dennis, had accepted a job in
New York in April and she was unsure of where the relationship was going. She admitted she loved him.

Andrea was a high school guidance counselor and was pursing her doctoral degree in Educational Administration. She was on a personal five year plan to become a school superintendent. Andrea contacted me during my senior year when she attended a conference at Penn State. The three hours we spent on the phone trying to catch up seemed to pass like minutes and we promised each other we would re-connect.