by Ronald W. Brown
Mama wuz a gold-skin angel! She came straight down from heaven on a white, fluffy cloud. Her wings, she done shed when she lit down on dis earf so’s not to draw too much attention as she went about.
Can you ‘magine how folks woulda pestered her if she hadda kept dem wings on?
I can ‘magine dat after she had shed dem beautiful white wings, she hid dem, and de halo dat had floated ovah her head, in a secret place. She changed her white robes for a tore and tattered dress and apron. She took off dem gold slippers and put on a pair of run-over work shoes and quietly made her presence known in dis world.
Den she met Chaos England.
What she ever see in dat man, I have no earfly idea.
Some folk say he wuz a good lookin’ man—in de same way dat Lucifer, is said to be good lookin’. De Bible say dat God say to Lucifer;
“Lucifer, you had e’rythang goin’ for you. You wuz in Eden. You wuz dress nice. Yo robe wuz stud wit diamonds, sapphies, and em’ralds; all in settins’ of ‘graven gold. A robe wuz prepared for you de same day you wuz created. You wuz de anointed cherub. I place you on my mountain. You stroll in magnif’cence amongst de stones of fire. From de day you wuz created you wuz sheer perfection . . . and den imperfection—evil!—wuz detected in you. In much buyin and sellin you turnt violent, you sin!”
Den God told Lucifer,
“I throwed you, disgraced, off my mountain. I throwed you out. No mo strollin amongst de gems of fire for you! Your beauty went to yo head. You corrupted wisdom by usin’ it to get worl’ly fame. I throwed you to de ground, sent you sprawlin’ before an audience of kings and let dem gloat over your downfall.”
I wish dat God had took and throwed old Chaos down instead of ole Lucifer.
De world woulda been a better place for us all, especially for me—an my lil’ baby.
more next week!