Page 34 - some-stuff-i-wrote-and-some-stuff-i-didn't-(2011)-h-morris-williams

Some Stuff I Wrote and Some Stuff I Didn't (2011) H. Morris Williams

Then it happened. Head down, my shy mother, with her high-pitched
screech, started singing, all alone.

“Uh uh maay-zingg grace, How sweet thu-uh sound...”. That did it.
That got us started. One by one, others joined in until everyone was
singing. No piano, no organ. Just human voices quietly echoing
throughout the small church.

There we stood, 12 or so tuneless souls, struggling to sing the best
we could, but by the last stanza we were all united in singing the most
beautiful verse in all hymndom.

“When we’ve been there ten thousand years, Bright shining as the
sun,
We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise than when we first begun.”

The song ended and we all remained standing. The minister paused,
then looked silently out at us with love, tenderness, and gratitude.
Maybe we were all thinking the same thing: “We did it. We sang the
man’s song for him. We did not let him go to his grave without his
song."

And my shy, timid mother had led the singing to be sure we did it.

As we left the little church that day, the words of that powerful,
magnificent hymn rang in my young soul. “Amazing grace!” The
overwhelming wonder of God’s loving mercy toward human kind.
“How sweet the sound!” So true. But that day I had also discovered
another might sweet sound: My mother’s singing voice. The memory
would forever more be sweet music to my ears.

My mother, Ida Belle English Williams. Born on a remote farm near
Fargo, Georgia, and, equipped with just a third grade education, she
endured an early life of incredible hardship but she always retained a
sweetness of spirit and a love of people. Life span: 78 years, eight
months, 26 days.

Of all those days we shared, the one I remember best is the day she
led the church singing. In memorium, Happy Mother’s Day, Mama.

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