Never Stop Singing. Denise Lewis PatrickЧитать онлайн книгу.
because you weren’t thinking only about yourself,” Yvonne said, switching off the TV. “You were thinking about lots of other people, too. Hey, only a responsible person can do that, Dee-Dee.”
Melody didn’t say anything, but she felt herself smiling. Yvonne had made her feel a little less sad and a little more grown up.
Just then there was a hard knock on the front door. Yvonne answered it, and their grandparents came in, along with a blast of cold air.
“Well, Happy Melody’s Eve, everybody!” Poppa’s voice boomed. It was his joke to call the day before New Year’s “Melody’s Eve.”
“Hello, my chicks!” Big Momma said, taking off her coat. As Melody hurried to hug them, she noticed the large wrapped box her grandfather had brought in and propped beside the door.
“Poppa, what’s that?” Melody asked, peeking curiously at the mysterious package. But when she looked to her grandfather for an answer, he only shrugged.
Big Momma smiled. “Well,” she said, “it’s a day early, but we brought our birthday girl a little something.”
“Ohhh!” Melody gasped at the surprise.
“Wow. That’s a pretty big box for a little something,” Yvonne said.
Melody picked up the box and carried it to the sofa. It wasn’t heavy, but it wasn’t exactly light, either. She shook it gently, hearing only a soft swish-swishing sound.
“Can I open it right now?” she asked.
“That was the idea, Little One,” Poppa laughed. “Go right ahead!”
Melody didn’t wait another second. She ripped off the wrapping paper, tugged the top off the box, and peeled back two layers of tissue paper to find a beautiful cream-colored dress with gold lace. It was folded neatly on top of a matching double-breasted coat with gold buttons. Melody looked up, wide-eyed.
“We thought you might like to dress up, since it’s your first Watch Night and Melody’s Eve all rolled into one,” Poppa told her.
“Do you like them?” Big Momma asked.
Melody nodded. “I’ve never owned anything so fancy,” she said. “Thank you!”
“Dee-Dee, try the coat on!” Yvonne said.
Melody eagerly slipped into the coat and felt warm all over. The cream-colored collar and cuffs were soft against her skin. She held her arms out and did a little twirl across the living room floor.
Big Momma clapped. “A perfect fit!”
“I could be a model in the Ebony magazine Fashion Fair,” Melody said proudly.
“You can be anything you want to be,” Yvonne said seriously.
Melody thought about their earlier conversation and smiled at her sister’s compliment.
Poppa cleared his throat. “How about being my helper in getting the church decorated for tonight? Or did that fancy coat make you forget?” he teased.
“Oh, no, Poppa,” Melody said quickly. “I’ll be ready in just a minute.” She carefully took off her new coat and started to fold it back into the box.
“Let me hang those up for you,” Yvonne offered. “So they don’t wrinkle.”
Melody handed her sister the coat and the box and followed Poppa to the front door. She grabbed her old jacket from the hook and then turned back to her grandmother.
“I love my birthday present. Thank you!”
“I’m so glad,” Big Momma told her. “You’ll look beautiful. Now you two go and make our New Hope church beautiful for tonight, too.”
“We will!” Melody said enthusiastically.
Poppa’s truck was in the driveway. The words “Frank’s Flowers” were on the passenger door. Poppa owned a flower shop on 12th Street, and he had taught Melody everything she knew about plants and gardening.
Melody climbed into the truck and peeked through the back window to see evergreen branches just like the ones on the kitchen calendar. “Oh, Poppa! The hall is going to smell so good!” Melody said. One of her favorite things about this time of year—besides her birthday—was the strong scent of evergreens.
“Yep. I have flowers, too,” Poppa said. “Poinsettias and amaryllis. We’ll make things look real nice for this evening. Are you excited about your first Watch Night service?”
Melody knew from her brother and sisters that Watch Night wouldn’t exactly be a New Year’s Eve party like the ones that were on TV. But there would be singing, and preaching by Pastor Daniels, with food and fellowship afterward in the church hall.
“I’m glad I can finally wait up with everybody else till midnight,” she told him. “But why isn’t it called ‘Wait Night’ instead of ‘Watch Night’?”
“Well, Watch Night is a tradition for some colored folks, especially those of us with family in the South. It goes back a hundred years, when word got out ahead of time that President Abraham Lincoln planned to announce to the country that all slaves were free. The president was going to make the announcement on New Year’s Day, 1863. So colored people, slave and free, sat up all night, keeping watch for freedom—Watch Night.”
“But you can’t see freedom,” Melody said.
“Are you sure about that?” Poppa asked.
Melody wondered for a moment what freedom might look like. Would it look like the thousands of people who had marched in Washington, D.C., last August? Or maybe like Detroit’s own Walk to Freedom in June? Melody and her family had joined thousands of others to hear Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. speak.
“Would freedom look like people of all races, doing things together?” she asked.
“Maybe,” Poppa said, glancing at her. “Back in 1863, that kind of freedom was just a dream. But I think on that first Watch Night, they could see freedom coming. How many times have you tried to stay awake on Melody’s Eve, because what’s coming is so special? When you’re expecting something big, something wonderful to happen, you can’t rest. And when that Emancipation Proclamation did come, our people celebrated. We’ve been giving thanks ever since, during Watch Night.”
“Wow,” Melody murmured. She was thankful that she was finally going to stay up for Watch Night. And she was proud that her birthday was linked to such an important tradition.
Watch Night
She inhaled the spicy smell of the pine branches she and Poppa had woven into a garland across the choir stand up front. As she watched for Poppa and Big Momma and her cousins to arrive, Melody glanced around at everything else that was so familiar: the beautiful stained-glass windows, the many faces she’d known forever. New Hope Baptist Church had always been her home away from home. There had been a time, right after the church bombing in Birmingham, that being here had frightened her, but now New Hope made Melody feel safe again.
When her cousin Val and the rest of the family arrived, they all oohed and aahed over Melody’s dress and coat. “It was so hard not to tell you about them,” Val said after she’d talked Lila into