Shine
“Daddy didn’t come, and neither did my brother—so much for Christian being a Christian—but they weren’t girls, so they could get away with it.
Last Sunday, Aunt Tildy let me stay home because I was such a wreck after hearing about Patrick. But this Sunday, I rode my bike from Patrick’s house to the Holiness Church of God in time for the “moment of silence,” which kicked off every service. That and the singing were the parts I liked best.
I’d always liked singing, and in the days of hanging out with Patrick and Mama Sweetie, the three of us would belt out songs for no reason. Mama Sweetie said you didn’t need a reason to sing. She said if everyone started off the day singing, just think how happy they’d be. We’d sing hymns from church and songs we’d learned at Vacation Bible School and silly songs Mama Sweetie knew from teaching preschoolers, including a goofy one about a wee-wee tot sitting on his wee-wee pot. Another of our favorites was “This Little Light of Mine,”
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