I took my two middle grandsons to “Chickalay” for lunch today. The conversation went kind of like this.
William: Edward’s with his grandmother too…Look John.
John: Theres lots of grandparents here today. There’s one, two, and there and there…Lots of old people…
Grammy: Do you think I’m old too?
John: Yeah you’re old…. Do you know where Grandaddy is now?
William: In heaven!
John: Do you know what color he is now……BLUE!
William: Well I think he’s white in heaven… Don’t you think he’s white Grammy? Blue would be scary.
I’ve been thinking a lot about what color people are lately, and shortly before I picked up the kids for lunch I had done a little research on my daddy’s place in Alabama History. My interest had been piqued by an old newspaper from article from the 50’s that we had found lining a trunk brought home from Grandaddy’s house. One Google led to another and soon I was deep into the archives of the State of Alabama.
Names like George Wallace and Bull Connor were there alongside my daddy’s. Not a pretty trip through the past.
I don’t really care what color people are when they get to heaven, I just hope for all our sake that they are all the same. Even if they aren’t I hope you’ll be able to see what’s inside them instead of their color or the shape of their eyes or their figure. I’ll bet we’d all be nicer to one another if you could do that.