God

Who is you? Da white man tell us to pray to you, but ah jus don’t get it. Dey makes us sit it dat there church, all cramped like on a balcony and say to listen to your word and de bible. But ah don’t trust ye as just yet. Mama Tezza says to be weary of de white man an’ ah know you must be some high and mighty white man to get the Masta and his lot all riled like dey get in church. Mama say to follow de white man and listen to dem and you so ah do, but ah still don’t like you. Ah know you must have like two hundred slaves an’ a big ol’ house, wherever you is. So ah’m a gonna wait an’ see if you is good or bad. Look, ah’ll even tell yas a secret. Mama Tezza don’t believe in you. She told me. She follows the ol’ religion from back there, she prays to de sun an’ de earth. She still remembers de ol’ days when we was still in da land across de big water. I tink Mama Tezza is older den dirt isself. An’ she wise like a fox. I wanna be like her but ah was born here. She say she de way she is ‘cause she got ol’ soil in her bones. Ah believes her. Ah ain’t gonna write anymore today. De candle is goin low an’ Mama wants ta lie down for bed. Ah ain’t goin to pray to you but ah will write a letta like this one here an’ hide it under my pillow. Da Masta would spank me iffin he knew.