The Reverend cleared his throat and stared sternly at her, but when his eyes slipped a glance at Breeze, they turned quickly to another direction. Big Sue in the choir on the other side of the pulpit shook her head, but Maum Hannah was wiping her joyful tears on an apron string, and she saw nothing until Uncle Bill’s old Louder trotted in and lay down near her feet, then she smiled and welcomed him with a gentle, “I glad you come to pray, Louder.”
The first scripture lesson told how Moses led the Children of Israel over Jordan on their journey toward Canaan, the promised land. The Reverend stopped, and took off his fine glasses with fingers that trembled, and it seemed to Breeze the preacher looked more at him than at Maum Hannah. Getting a white fresh-ironed pocket handkerchief out of his pants pocket, he unfolded it and made little delicate wipes at the corners of both his eyes. He polished each spectacle glass, cleared his throat and coughed until his voice was clear, then he read the second lesson. April, who had come in late, listened intently. Lord, how the man could read. He used to read at meeting on Sandy Island sometimes. He read now, about charity, which he said meant love, and as the familiar words fell clear on Maum Hannah’s ears, the beauty of them stirred her heart. Her eyes closed, her body rocked from side to side. She murmured low praise to God, then louder words of encouragement to the preacher. “Tell de people, son! Don’ hold back! You’s a stranger in a strange land, but you’s a child of Gawd! Read em, son, read em!” she crooned. “Read de word of Gawd. Let de people hear all wha’ Jedus say! We got to love ev’ybody! Sinners an’ all! Love de sinners! Hate de sin!”
Old Reverend Salty had never objected to Maum Hannah’s taking a part in the service, but this preacher was new. He didn’t understand that Maum Hannah’s heart was so moved that she had to speak out. He got more and more nervous and fretted. Every now and then he turned his head to one side and cast a disapproving frown toward her, but she was too happy to notice that anything was wrong.
When he began lining out the hymn:
“Come ye that love the Lord
And let your joy be known,”
Uncle Bill leaned close and whispered in the old woman’s ear, “You mustn’ talk out loud, Auntie. Dis preacher is used to town ways.”
Leah raised the tune, and her strong voice, swelled by the congregation, made it hard to hear what Uncle Bill said. Maum Hannah gave him a puzzled questioning look, and her old lips haltingly inquired:
“Enty?”
Whole stanzas were sung before she joined in with the great volume of harmony. Did Uncle Bill say she mustn’t talk out loud because the preacher was used to town ways! Breeze nodded. That was exactly what Uncle Bill said. Maum Hannah sighed, and mumbled. She didn’t mean any disrespect. His beautiful reading had moved the spirit in her and stirred her heart so deep, her tongue could not lie dumb in her mouth. She’d try not to talk out loud again.