Take My Hand

by Dolen Perkins-Valdez

There were all different kinds of ministers. Ministers of congregations. Ministers of music. To minister was to serve.

There are a lot of things a mother can say to hurt her child, even long after the child is an adult.

“Sometimes love can kill you, just like hate. You love too hard and you can lose yourself

in other folks’ sorrow.

How dare they? Our bodies belonged to us. Poor, disabled, it didn’t matter. These were our bodies, and we had the right to decide what to do with them.

The sacrifice of justice? How little Aunt Ros knew. She had been away from Montgomery too long. Whether it was the Birmingham church bombing or Ruby Bridges, there wasn’t any justice for little Black girls, and never had been.

Some ailments are not meant for a medical degree,

We sat there silently, each lost on our own islands of sadness.

I was struggling with how I would make up for lost time, but now I know the time was not lost at all. It is just passed.