AN UNRECOGNIZED RELATIVE.
By Verbena Hawthorn
[“Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these My brethren, ye have done it unto Me.” Matt. 25:40.] “Mama, don’t you like that lady?”
Queried Mamie on the street,
“Else why did you not salute her
Like the others that you meet?” “She’s a negro, Mamie darling,
And I can not speak to such.”
“Do you think,” came back the answer,
“That ’twould hurt you very much?” Silence then ensued some moments,
Till abruptly Mamie said,
“Will the negroes go to heaven?”
“Of course; what’s now in Mamie’s
head?” “O, I thought that up in heaven
If you did not treat them right,
Maybe Jesus wouldn’t like it,
’Cause He made them black, us white! “For you will not speak in heaven
If you don’t begin it here;
Anyhow that’s what you tell me
’Bout my doings, mama dear. “And some day He might get sorry
That He let you, ma, be saved;
If you wouldn’t speak to His folks
He would think you bad behaved.” Then again came welcome silence,
As we trod that busy street,
Till she figured out the problem
Of a kinship quite complete. ‘Mama, don’t you know the negroes
Are your brothers, sisters too?
And you scolded me one morning
’Cause I wouldn’t speak to Sue. “But you slighted your own sister—
God’s the Father of us all—
Tho you called her just a negro
She’s relation after all.” Again they met the colored lady,
This time with a cheery word;
And ’twas plain to see the message
Had a tender spirit stirred. But the lips ne’er missed the tonic
That the tongue had wisely spent,
And the speaker felt a love-light
Burning in her as she went. When again she reached her dwelling,
Lighter, brighter seemed her cares,
With conviction that an Angel
She had greeted unawares.