One day I was standing on a stool in the kitchen helping Mamie wash and dry dishes. I asked her if I could call her “Mama” instead of Mamie, since other kids called their parents “Mama” and “Daddy.” At first, Mamie didn’t say anything. It was like she hadn’t heard me. Before I could ask the question again, she started to cry. “What’s wrong, Mamie?” I asked sadly. “Did I say somethin’ bad?” With the suds on her hands keeping her from wiping her eyes, she kept on washing the dishes. Then she mumbled, “Boy, the Lord knows that Mamie loves you. And if you want to, child, you can call your Mamie
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