From The Backbay Chronicles-Revival Week “ REVIVAL WEEK “ BY PAULINE A. WHITE The last two weeks in August were the most important 14 days of the summer to me. In Princess Anne County it was the time for Family Reunions. Relatives who had made the move ‘up North’, as my grandparents and parents had done so many years earlier, would come back “home”. Even after thirty or more years of living somewhere else, most Southerners still regarded their birthplace as “home”. Mamma, Daddy, and Gram always started their respective vacations on the first day of August. They would drive down to Virginia together in our family car, planning to stay for the entire month. They’d visit and become reacquainted with their people all around the countryside. Mamma’s plan was to take me into the city of Norfolk to shop for my upcoming school days in September. She said that the clothing was much cheaper there, and of better quality. I was happy to have my parents and grandmother there with me, but it made me sad to know that the summer was almost over. I kept up a steady correspondence with my friends back in Brooklyn while I was away, just as my cousins wrote to me during the winter months when I returned to the North. It was harder every year to leave Virginia and take up my life back in New York again. Revival Week; and entire seven days of church services at the Mount Olive Baptist Church and visiting other churches in the immediate area. Gospel choirs came to sing their praises to the Lord, with guest preachers spouting the Word of Jesus. So many beautiful sermons and songs. We had guests at the farm almost every single day. Practically everyone who came knew my Mamma from childhood, or as a young woman starting out her life after high school. My cousin Jean, and I were nosy little girls. We were always listening at closed doors, gathering information about anything and everything, to be analyzed privately at our sleepovers together. That was the reason for our many ‘keyhole meetings’ whenever we smelled some juicy gossip forthcoming. Whenever we were around them, the grownups seemed to talk in codes and signals. Of course, that only made us all the more curious. Revival Week was ‘catch-up’ time for them, and for us, too, if we were lucky. It was also the time for people to become ‘saved’; coming forward and declaring their desire to be with Jesus, in front of the entire congregation. Everyone would then pray diligently for the person’s soul, hoping that they would receive God into their heart. One night, two children went down to the bench at the head of the church, to be saved. After much prayer, they both stood up crying and yelling that God had ‘touched’ them. Their parents were overjoyed, as well as the congregation and the elders. By the end of the services for the night, my mother and Jean’s, who were very close, decided that it was time for the both of us to be saved as well. By the next night, all of my cousins were pressed into being on the bench down front. Now, we were taught in Sunday School NOT to be hypocrites. Anything that we decided to undertake in life should be done with sincerity and dedication. Knowing that the Lord could see and hear our every thought, we knew that we had to go with this thing the right way. Honestly. There were seven of us, all cousins, all between the ages of eight to twelve years old. We were not bad kids, as far as kids went back in the late fifties, but we all had mischievous natures. When the pastor called for ‘any sinners great and small’ to come to the bench, we all held hands and went forward. Sitting side by side, littlest in the middle, biggest on the ends, we felt confident that the Lord would call to us somehow and we would be ready. Right above us, the choir was seated to the left of the pulpit. We felt every eye in the church upon us that night. We were quietly awaiting the next move. Shouts of “amen” and “hallelujah” were loud and clear at our backs. The way they were carrying on, you would have thought that we were the members of some terrible gang, with sins mounted up as high as the ceiling. The head Deacon, Elder Brown, began praying over us. He then started the preaching, building it up to a feverish pitch until our pastor took over. It seemed to go on forever and ever. People were shouting and crying all over the church. There we sat, silent and still. They covered topics ranging from children and the Ten Commandments to Obedience to Adults. In between, songs were sung, with clapping and stomping interjected. Shouts of “ come home, children” were heard throughout the place. After about two straight hours of this, we were becoming tired of it all. The smaller ones were falling asleep in our arms. My little cousin Teddy, ( who we secretly called the Preacher), began to cry, then stood up alone. Now, this child had always been religious, hence the nickname, but we were still shocked. He rocked and cried, looking up at the rafters. We began to follow his gaze, becoming alarmed. Sliding glances at each other, we tried to figure out what was up with Teddy when he jumped up in the air and came down shouting “ Jesus”. The yell could curl your toes. Then, he shouted, “I can see Him, I can see Him”, loudly. Tears running down his cheeks, Teddy was overjoyed with the Spirit. The congregation was in a frenzy. I even heard my own mother screaming at the top of her lungs, giving thanks to God. Looking at the other cousins, their faces were mirroring mine with a building fright and a bit of awe mixed in. Before we could ask each other any questions, Teddy’s two older brothers both jumped up, too. Their faces has the glisten of tears upon them. I tried to get a closer look, to see if they had put some spittle on their cheeks, or something, but from what I could gather, it was the genuine article, alright. Well, now, the rest of us didn’t know what to do. There we were, still sitting there like bumps on a log, looking silly and un-nerved. Our pastor came down from his pulpit and touched the brothers’ heads. This gesture only made the boys more agitated. With all of the noise and confusion going on around us, no one seemed to notice when my two cousins, Jean and Patty, leaned over to me and held a quick confab. Diane was too far away from us to talk to, but Patty would relay the message later. But, later never came because Diane decided at that moment to jump up and shout “ my God” loudly. She began to do a little dance in her spot by the end of the bench. She was sobbing as if her heart would break, but there was a smile, tiny, but still there, on her face that was radiant to behold. A hymn, “ Come to Jesus” began playing right about then. The entire church took up the song, voices swelling, cries of joy intermingled. I dared to turn in my seat; and caught my mother’s eye. She was staring at me with a look that said ‘do something, girl’. Turning back towards Jean, her face reflected my own. Fake it, or what? Unconsciously, we grasped hands, hard. Patty, on the other side, was staring at our cousins, who all seemed to be in Rapture. It was kind of spooky, but nice at the same time. I was exhausted. Patty was in agony, and Jean was just staring into nothingness in front of her. Suddenly, little Teddy reached out his hand and touched my shoulder. I still cannot explain the feeling. An electric shock, tiny at first, then a charge that brought me up onto my feet. Electric. I still held onto Patty and Jean’s hands. They, too, lurched out of their seats, puzzled faces sweat streaked. I found myself crying real tears!! Glancing at the others, I saw that they were also shedding tears. Scary?? Oh, yeah. The head Deacon was speaking to us from the pulpit about letting the Lord into our collective hearts and not being ashamed or afraid of the good feeling we felt. Cry and be blessed. I didn’t know what he was talking about, but the feel of his speech reached inside of me. Then, a heat ray, the way you feel while eating hot soup on a cold day, swept through my body all at once. From my fingertips to my toes, I was on fire with it. I let out a gasp and a smile, all together. I heard my two cousins beside me doing the exact same thing!! All three of us smiled directly at the Deacon above us. We knew that we had been saved by the Lord God Almighty, and it was a good feeling-but weird!! The End
Copyright © 2002 Pauline A White |