had so many adults caring about me, wanting me to be part of their lives, that when Mamie and I prayed before my bedtime it took a long time to name all the people I needed to ask the Lord to watch over. “Oh, Jesus,” I began, “please look over Mr. Smith, Mrs. Jones, Mr. Williams and Nanny, also Mr. James and his dog, and Mr. Will and Clara….” I would go on and on until Mamie, kneeling beside me the whole time, would say, “Boy, can’t you just say ‘all God’s children’?” “But, Mamie, I’m almost finished,” I would answer. But then, having lost my place, I’d start all over again: “Mr. Smith, Mrs.
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