My grandmother, Elizabeth May Carter Johnson, was a serious woman. She grew up in an era when she had to be serious. As a Black woman raised in the South, who later lived in the North, she was the head of her family with fourteen children! She had to be serious!
My grandmother had a deep voice. She kept a ‘switch’ behind every door in her house, smoked Newport cigarettes daily, and kept a loaded shotgun by her bed. When we visited, we would often find her sitting on the front steps, Newport in hand, watching traffic go by and chatting up anyone who walked by. She was also the community daycare provider: children running everywhere, food always cooking, love served with extreme discipline. She was the head usher at Mount Hope AME Church, the kind of woman who kept order both at home and in the sanctuary.
She was a phenomenal woman. She was my superhero! I loved going to her home. I watched her as she held court: arguing, debating any and everything; and all the while, feeding, caring for, and making sure you left her home better than when you came in! She did not smile much, but you knew you were welcome. She was not a hugger, but you felt her love. She did not ‘spoil’ you, but you knew you were special to her.
She was amazing!
As we approach All Saints Day, I think about her. My wife often tells me that I look too serious—or reminds me to smile—and I see that same seriousness in our oldest son. He does not know it yet, but he gets it from my grandmother who has long since passed, well before he was born.
All Saints Day is a sacred invitation to remember those who have come before us. So, this
week, I invite you to reflect on three questions:
➢ From whom do you get your laugh? What is that story?
➢ From whom do you get your passion or fire? What is that story?
➢ From whom do you get your mannerisms? What is that story?
When we name the people who have shaped us – their courage, and their care – we should remember that identity is not created in isolation or a vacuum. We are the collective love of those who came before us, the sum of prayers whispered long before we were born.
We are our grandmother’s seriousness, our father’s laugh, our mother’s grace.
We are because they are!
I am reminded of Paul’s words to Timothy:
“I am reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and your mother
Eunice, and I am persuaded, now lives in you also.” 2 Timothy 1:5
Today, honor the work, prayer, and love of those who came before you! Let it live on through
you by sharing it with others. Amen!
Dr. Ron Bell
