Wisdom Seeds Read online

  Wisdom Seeds

  by Patrice Wade-Johnson

  In Memory of

  Ida Hall

  Marion Germany Lawrence

  William ‘Sonny’ Lewis

  This book is fruit from seeds they planted.

  Wisdom Seeds

  Copyright © 2003, 2005 by Patrice Wade-Johnson

  Words with Wings Publishing Company

  PO Box 17141

  Pittsburgh, PA 15235

  www.patricewadejohnson.com

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews or articles.

  Scriptures taken from the New King James Version.

  Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc.

  Used by permission. All rights reserved.

  ISBN 978-0-9773464-0-0

  Printed in the United States of America

  Library of Congress Control Number 2005908651

  1. African American

  2. Fiction-General/Christian Contemporary

  Acknowledgments

  I thank God for His anointing and bountiful blessings.

  “Delight yourself in the Lord and

  He will give you the desires of your heart.” Psalm 37:4

  A very special thank you to all the Women’s Ministries and Book

  Clubs that welcomed me and spread the word.

  My Sanctuary of Praise family – “The prayers of the righteous

  availeth much…” I am blessed with a wonderful church family.

  Barb Crosby – Iron truly does sharpen iron – you are loved and

  appreciated. Your ministry has often been my refuge.

  Dad – You told me I could do anything and now my dreams are

  endless. Thank you.

  Auntie – Because you pushed, I continue to move forward.

  Denise, Sima, Faithe – My first book talk – love you all!

  Angela and Jai – Thanks for reading the draft!

  Rhonda, Nique, Aisha, Nasia – Listen to voices of wisdom.

  Alita – Cary is the best place to think, write and relax – thank you

  for the open invitations to your home!

  Cyndi – God blessed me with you. Your remarks were priceless.

  Darnell – My big brother in Christ, my Pastor, my friend. I could

  write a book thanking you for everything you have been and done!

  Adrienne – Thanks for taking the time to introduce me to Jesus

  and to Bible study. True friends give eternal gifts. You are and

  you have! You are the angel God sent.

  Maureen – I can’t thank you enough for everything. I am blessed

  to have you as my best friend! (and agent, photographer, midnight

  coffee maker, proof reader, thesaurus, encourager and prayer

  partner) Two are definitely much better than one!

  Mom – You always believed in me. Thanks for teaching me

  persistence and endurance. Because of you, I believe I can fly!

  Ray and Candice – The seeds have been planted in you, too. All

  you have to do is allow them to bloom!

  Cover photo – DeAnna Elaine Wilkerson

  Models – Mrs. Mary Saunders and Michaela Flood

  Therefore hear the parable of the sower: When anyone hears the word of the kingdom, and does not understand it, then the wicked one comes and snatches away what was sown in his heart. This is he who received seed by the wayside. But he who received the seed on stony places, this is he who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy; yet he has no root in himself, but endures only for a while. For when tribulation or persecution arises because of the word, immediately he stumbles. Now he who received seed among the thorns is he who hears the word, and the cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word, and he becomes unfruitful. But he who received seed on the good ground is he who hears the word and understands it, who indeed bears fruit and produces: some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty.

  Matthew 13: 18 – 23

  Prologue

  As I parked along the dirt road in the cemetery I could hear the singing even with the windows up. I felt numb. “If His eye is on the spa-a-a-rrow, then I know, He is watching o-o-over me” – that was Nana’s favorite song. “God,” I sighed, “I don’t feel like you’re watching me right now and I need you. I can’t do this anymore.”

  My stomach knotted as my eyes followed Joshua moving through the crowd. He walked to the front row and stood next to the grandmother he had only known for two days. Joshua reached over and held her hand during the prayer.

  Staring at the faces of those around the casket, I easily identified Greg’s brother. They looked just alike. His sisters resembled their mother. I had avoided all of them at the church. What was there to say?

  Joshua stood facing the casket with his back to me. I knew he really didn’t hate me, he was angry. My dad had been right, my secret had come back to haunt me. The whispers in my shadow were now screaming. Joshua had had the best of everything, including memories of a loving father. Jason loved him. Greg left him – and me. The moment felt fanatical. I attempted to get out of the car for air, but the door was too heavy. I let the window down and let myself sink down in the seat.

  ‘I have planted seeds of wisdom in you.’ Nana’s words resonated in my head. What had I learned? Life hurts. I hadn’t learned that from wisdom, I learned that from pain. The sparrow had fallen and I wasn’t sure God was watching.

  1

  My summers during college were spent in Wheeling with my maternal grandmother. Nana told me about the Youth Investment Program at West Virginia University when I was a senior in high school. I applied for a counselor’s position during my freshman year at Penn State and looked forward to spending my summers close to Grandma Ida, affectionately called Nana. Even knowing my Sunday mornings and Wednesday evenings would be spent at Memorial Park AME Zion Church, I still looked forward to spending my summers in West Virginia.

  Ida Pearl Holloway. I loved everything about her and cherished every memory from my visits to Wheeling. By the time I was in high school, only Mom and I were visiting her regularly and Nana was only coming to visit us during the Christmas holiday. It was always evident in the silence between them that my dad didn’t particularly care for Nana and I never understood why. Nana was full of love and full of stories. She was a country girl and had a love for life that was contagious. It was absurd that anyone could not love Ida Pearl. Even during the height of his obstinence when he hated everyone, my brother, Noah, still loved Nana.

  I remember everything about her. She loved Jean Naté and put it on every morning after her bath. Even her towels smelled like Jean Naté! She had a collection of hats and shoes to match every dress and she meticulously coordinated her outfits, never wearing more than three colors at a time. I only remember her wearing pants twice. Both times she was visiting us and it was bitter cold. Nana even wore sundresses while she worked in her yard because she said after growing up on a farm she would never wear anything made out of denim again.

  When I was sixteen Nana showed me the letters she and Grandpa Booker exchanged during their marriage. For thirty-eight years they wrote each other love letters on Valentine’s Day. Nana and Grandpa Booker loved each other second only to the Lord – it was Nana who taught me about love.

  I especially remember her stories of the wisdom seeds. She told me the first one when I was five. It was the fall of 1963 and we had been in Wheeling for about a week because Grandpa Booker had died. I found my g
randmother sitting in her room and I climbed on the bed, laying my head in her lap.

  “Dani,” she whispered.

  I answered with my face still in her dress. “Yes Ma’am.”

  “Do you know what it means to have joy?”

  “Yes Ma’am.” I sat up next to her.

  “Well, I’m going to tell you how to have joy forever and I want you to promise me you will remember,” she said braiding my hair. “I always want you to have joy.”

  “I promise.” I had no idea of what I was agreeing to.

  “Love God with all your heart because He first loved you and died so you could have eternal life.”

  “Okay.” I smiled.

  “No matter what happens in your life, always remember Jesus loves you. That’s a wisdom seed for joy.”

  “A wisdom seed?” I squinted turning to look up at her.

  “Baby,” she smiled, “a wisdom seed is something someone plants in your heart so it will grow one day.”

  “How’s it going to grow inside my heart?”

  “Because life will water it and when you grow up the seed will bloom.”

  “Like a flower?”

  “Just like a pretty flower.” She started singing her favorite song and I sang along with her.

  From that day, whenever I was visiting her, or she was visiting us, she made me recite John 3:16 every morning.

  For God so loved the world that He gave His

  only begotten Son, that whoever believes in

  Him should not perish but have everlasting life.

  As we were getting dressed, we always sang His Eye Is On The Sparrow. I memorized the scripture and the song because I loved her. It would be years before I would come to understand the significance of what I had committed to memory.

  Several years passed before Nana planted the second wisdom seed in my life. It was the spring of 1969 and one of the last times we went to visit Nana as a family. During this particular visit my mom took her second and final stand to my dad. The first was in naming me. My dad named my brothers and wanted to name me Sarah Elizabeth, but my mom would not have it. I am eternally grateful that she insisted my name be Danielle, even if she did tack on Sarah Elizabeth to appease him.

  Anyway, my dad had been doing his usual ‘fuss thing’ with Noah, scolding him for acting like a heathen. Mom motioned for us to follow her into the kitchen where Nana was squeezing lemons. Joey and I proceeded out to the back porch because we weren’t permitted to sit under adults while they were talking. I sat on the swing by the radio that was holding the window open so I could see my mom and Nana standing at the sink.

  “You used to be care free,” Nana said, as Mom filled the pitcher with water. “I sure do miss her,” Nana continued. “My Judy was a girl who always carried a song in her heart. Then she got married.”

  “Mother, you promised we wouldn’t talk about this.” Mom was trying to whisper.

  Although I was very good at eavesdropping, I had to concentrate because their voices were muddled behind the static on the radio. I wanted to turn it down, except that would have given me away. The secret to good eavesdropping was to make people think you weren’t interested in what they were saying.

  It was hard to imagine my mother as carefree. She was a dutiful wife who made sure she took care of my dad, the house and us. She was the picture perfect preacher’s wife, well dressed and always smiling. At eleven I knew she wasn’t carefree and was beginning to wonder if she was happy.

  “He never dealt with his own pain,” Nana’s voice was raised. “He spent years trying to pretend those things never happened.”

  I didn’t know what she meant, yet I listened intently.

  “Judy!” Dad called Mom from the side of the house where I suspected he had whipped Noah. Joey looked at me and I took his silent cue to keep my mouth shut and stay glued to the swing. Before I had time to think about it, my dad came up the back porch steps pulling Noah by the arm. Sweat was pouring off his face onto his starched white collar. I tried to make eye contact with Noah – he was looking at Joey who was pretending to play a piano and sing along with the Temptations. There was no time to warn Nana or Mom.

  My dad’s voice was stern as he flung open the back door. “I refuse to condone his sin with silence.” His veins protruded from his neck and his eyes were fixed on Nana.

  “You’re angry with yourself David, not Noah and not me.” Nana’s voice remained calm as she continued to squeeze lemons.

  Mom continued to stir the sugar water in the pitcher.

  Noah looked at the floor.

  My dad cleared his throat, raised his voice and banged his fist on the counter. “Woman, that’s what’s wrong with the world – everybody wants to do their own thing with no accountability!”

  Before he could finish, my mom’s neck jerked and her head turned ten seconds before her body. She stepped between her mother and my dad, maintaining eye contact with him. With the spoon less than half an inch from his nose, she reminded him that yelling and addressing her mother as ‘woman’ was unacceptable. It sounded like my mom was crying.

  I wanted to go in the kitchen and was trying to work up the courage to get off the swing when Nana came outside with Noah and hurried us down the steps. Noah and Joey mocked my parents as they went running up the hill behind the house. Nana and I started picking flowers. It was April and the flowers were beginning to bloom.

  We walked in silence and without breaking her stride she said, “Dani, never say things you will live to regret.” Then with that serious look I had come to know, she asked, “Do you understand?”

  I said yes even though I didn’t. Her wisdom seeds were still only good stories. I followed her along the fence as she continued to pick flowers. Without looking back she said, “I’m going to plant the wisdom seed of love in your heart.” She stopped, leaned against the fence and looked up the hill where Joey and Noah had run. “Words spoken in anger can never be taken back. Although someone may apologize, the scar of their words will remain forever.” She paused. “And how do you remove a scar?” She asked, looking down at me.

  I looked up squinting because the sunrays came through that big oak tree like a spotlight in my eyes and shrugged my shoulders.

  As she bent down to pick up another flower she said, “You can’t but if you focus on the scar you’ll be miserable for the rest of your life. Miserable people have no love in here.” She pointed to her heart. “Love and hate can’t live in the same heart. The only way to have love is to forgive. God said we must be willing to forgive people when they hurt our feelings. God forgives us when we sin and hurt His feelings.” Nana turned and began walking back toward the house. “Repeat after me,” she said without turning around. “And be kind to one another,” she paused and waited for me to repeat after her. I obediently obliged through the verse.

  “. . . tender hearted,

  forgiving one another

  even as God in Christ forgave you

  Ephesians 4:32.”

  Nana planted the third wisdom seed in my heart during the summer before my sophomore year at Penn State. One Saturday morning while we were sitting on the front porch snapping beans she said, “Dani, hand me my Bible.” Nana never lost her pace snapping beans and, without looking, tossing them into that old tin bucket. The same bucket she said she used to wash my mom when she was a baby. I tried not to think about that as I watched it fill up with beans. We had to eat them for dinner.

  Nana wiped her hands on her apron and took the Bible from me. She turned to II Corinthians 6:14.

  “Do not be unequally yoked together with unbelievers for what fellowship has righteousness with lawlessness? And what communion has light with darkness?”

  She read as if she were a famous orator, pronouncing each word with emphasis.

  “Remember that scripture.” She handed me the Bible and put two handfuls of beans on her lap. “You’re away at college and you’ve got to make good choices about people. Not all people are good, even though
they might look nice on the outside. Everyone smiling at you is not going to like you and some people are just plain mean and will take advantage of you.”

  It felt like a lecture, but I was captivated. Nana spoke with authority.

  “No one likes to be alone – the happy, the sad, the good or the bad. Look at people who are loved, you will see that they are loving and they surround themselves with others who are like-minded – just as the scornful like to avoid joy and keep a disdain for those who are happy. If you find people who are unhappy and unable to maintain friendships, stay away from them. And since we are known by the company we keep, then you must make a decision. What kind of people do you want to be around – the friendly or the scornful?”

  She resumed her beat snapping beans. I stopped to concentrate on the question I had never thought about before.

  “Dani, who are you walking with?”

  Unsure of what to say, I sat there with a dumb look on my face. Childish as it seems, I was thinking I wasn’t walking with anyone. I was sitting on the front porch snapping beans with her.

  “Make sure you surround yourself with good people, Dani,” she said breaking the silence. “Walk with good people. That’s a wisdom seed for happiness. Keep good people and happiness in your life.”

  I understood, although not clearly. There was some big life lesson in what she said and I was sure I was missing a piece. My mind raced to respond, but I had no words.

  Nana sat up to get another handful of beans off the table. “You like Tony, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, he’s nice.” I tried not to smile.

  “You can smile,” she teased. “I already knew.”

  “It’s not like that Nana, we just went to the movies.”

  “Are you going out again?”

  “Bowling on Saturday,” I tried to say with a straight face.

  “He’s a nice kid. He and his friend, Jeffrey, left New York to give themselves a chance.”

  “I know, he told me.”

  “That shows he has a good head on his shoulders. A good man knows how to get away from and stay out of trouble. Sometimes when boys grow up without a father it’s hard for them to learn how to be good men. But God done blessed them two with good men that cared about them.” Nana smiled. “God done planted a lot of good men all over the country.” She paused. “So you don’t have to settle.”