Miss Azalea's funeral
miss azalea,single and never married, lived in tiny love-filled rooms above her small shop.her shop stocked simple things people might want to buy without having to walk long distance to the big markets.her home was known as a"safe place,"always filled with an atmosphere of transforming love.
On the day of her funeral,the pastor watched as mourners came.stone steps lead from the street to the wide wooden doors,old steps,chipped and worn by decades of worshippers.two deaconesses,thier soft white gloves the only nonblack in thier worship uniforms,led members and guests to empty chairs until all the seats were filled with people who had learned about love from miss Azalea.
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the front rows remained empty, reserved for a very special group who were ushered to thier places as the music began to play.they arrived as individuals,some with friends,many with small children,each filling a place of honor as close a possible to miss azalea.
A skilled choir sang hyms,the same ones miss azalea had song on so many worship days.the congregations, vibratos enhanced by the loss of a fine friend,joined the choir,lifting the music so strongly that the walls bulged outward and the ceiling seemed to open wide enough so that all heaven could hear.
after much singing,long praying,and more singing,the pastor,his special robes moving with the spirit,walked slowly to a wooden pulpit the size of a small ship.
The sanctuary was silent now,as if prepared to hear the worst. "she's gone," the pastor began. "the evil cancer finally took her from us.but even as her physical health dimmed, the light of miss Azalea's love stayed bright."we're all going to miss her.
"we all knew miss Azalea's very well,”
the pastor continue."and each of us loved her as she loved us".
The church filled with amens, hallelujah,and loud cries of "thank you Jesus!"
"As we all know,Miss Azalea always wanted to have children but never achieved her dreams."
The church once again erupted in affirmations and sorrow.then the pastor raised his arms to quiet his flock.
"However,"he said,"Miss Azalea did not bury her talent of motherhood,but chose from among us;21 children; 21 mother less children;21 fatherless children;21 children who lived in the gutters of our city;21 children needed love;21 children who learned god's love in miss Azalea home;21 children who were given god's gift of a mother's love;21 of god's children—miss Azalea's children!"
The pastor waved his arms toward the front rows and bowed to the special guests.it was a long time until the congregations settled down from praising God,miss Azalea,all 21 children,and each other.when silence finally returned,the pastor continue.
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"Today as the most important part of this service of love and worship,all 21 of miss Azalea's children have come to tell us about thier mother."one by one they come forward,telling the stories that everyone already knew.nothing new there children within the safety of this congregations.