Yesterday, I Cried_ Celebrating the Lessons of Living and Loving - Iyanla Vanzant [25]
Grandma’s pounding the leaves in the washtub with a large rock woke Rhonda before sunrise. Standing barefoot on the porch, Rhonda would watch Grandma pound, pray, and add water to the tub, transforming the dry leaves into a slimy green concoction. By the time Grandma saw Rhonda and ordered her into her slippers, she would have added a pile of Aunt Mattie’s clothes to the concoction. Through the tiny screened window on the back porch, Grandma would watch Rhonda mount the milk crate in the bathroom, where she would stand to wash her face and the “tight places” on her body. On the back porch, Grandma put the clothes and the green concoction into the wringer washer. Eating biscuits and bacon, and drinking milk fresh from the cow, Rhonda watched out of the kitchen window as Grandma hung Aunt Mattie’s clothes on the outdoor line. Rhonda knew that by noon the clothes would be dry and ready to be ironed.
It was “women’s work,” Grandma said. “You’ve got to know how to stay focused long enough, and how to pray hard enough, to bring healing into any place and any situation.” Grandma said, “Women’s work goes beyond faith. Faith is what you need when you don’t have discipline, and when you don’t know. When you know, you do the work, and you don’t need faith.”
During that trip to Virginia, Rhonda began to see Grandma in a completely different light. The cruel, violent, angry woman that Rhonda knew from back home had given way to a focused, disciplined, and compassionate human being. Rhonda didn’t understand what was really going on, but she knew it was sacred. She had never before seen Grandma in this light. She liked it. She liked the way it felt. She prayed that it would last. Rhonda also learned something new about herself. She learned that she could do the right thing.
Saturday finally came. Grandma washed Rhonda’s body with Aunt Mattie’s Avon soap and let her put some sweet-smelling lotion on herself. After Rhonda was dressed, Grandma didn’t even tell her where to sit, so she stood quietly on the porch. It was when she was in the backseat of Uncle Jimmy’s big blue Caddy that Rhonda realized she had received the answer to another prayer. She could smell the scent of the store-bought soap and lotion rising off her body as Uncle Jimmy tore down the dusty country road, headed for the hospital. Rhonda fiddled with her patent-leather purse and the handle on the back door that controlled the car window. She knew she was pushing her luck, but there were moments when she sang, out loud. Neither Grandma nor Uncle Jimmy said a word to Rhonda or to each other for the entire ride.
When they arrived in Newport News, Grandma gave Rhonda a dollar and told her to get herself some ice cream. She asked the lady in the store if she would keep an eye on Rhonda for a little while. The man behind the counter gave Rhonda a big bowl of ice cream and a huge pile of napkins. He gave her a little extra when she told him she had come from New York. Before she could get herself situated in the seat and enjoy her treat, Rhonda looked up and saw Grandma, followed by Uncle Jimmy, and Uncle Jimmy, followed by Aunt Mattie, heading her way. Rhonda thought that Aunt Mattie was dead, or dying, or something, but looking at the slight smile on Grandma’s face, she realized that the “women’s work” that she and Grandma had done had been successful.
Things were back to normal. Every five words or so, Grandma would remind Rhonda, “Don’t mess up your clothes”; “Take your time”; “Use your napkin.” And on the ride back to the house, Grandma issued at least fifty don’t-do-thats and leave-that-alones. Back in New York, Rhonda learned more details about the trip to Smithfield. Grandma told Daddy, the neighbors, and all the church ladies about how prayer had saved Aunt Mattie. She didn’t tell them about the herbs or the washing and ironing of the clothes. And far be it from Rhonda to say anything to anybody about anything.
Grandma must have been really pleased with God for saving Aunt Mattie, because no matter what Rhonda did, she didn’t get a healing bath for a