For Wilshire Baptist Church
My absolute very first conscious memory is looking out upon a montage of sharp black and white shapes, feeling frightened and crying at the confusion of the contrasts, and yet sensing safety in the clutch of a hand holding mine. All my senses seemed to be firing in that moment, and maybe that’s why I remember it before all others. I’ve asked my mother about this, and she says that in the winter of 1960 when I was one year old, it snowed in Richardson, and she thinks she probably took me out on the back patio to look at the white snow beginning to cover the black dirt of the new, grassless yard.
Continue reading “Cold but Safe”