When I was a little girl I lived in St. Augustine Florida. I lived in other towns across the north eastern part of the state, always near the Atlantic Ocean. I went to Cathedral Parish School, walking down St. George St. which was made of brick. I loved that little town. We attended church at the Cathedral, but once a month, my brother would take me to the African American Catholic Church, and I was stunned by the beautiful singing. The old Latin High Mass was extraordinary, breathtaking music, but the African American Choir sang it as I had never heard it sung before. I was certain that I heard angels singing, and the congregation was warm and kind. I never wanted to leave. This was sixty years ago, and segregation was very strong in those days. I couldnt understand why we all didnt go to the same church. I didnt understand why we all didnt go to the same school. And as I began to discover why, I knew it was wrong. That knowing changed my life. I was never the same. I wasnt popular. I would not shut up about it, and I made enemies, but I wouldnt change a thing. The feisty little girl I once was, who realized what was wrong about segregation, who decided that God made us all His children of one family, no matter what anyone else ever believed then or since, made me the woman I am today. And it all began with a choir which sang with the voices of angels.
Posted on: Fri, 14 Mar 2014 04:05:43 +0000
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