Gwen entered with the family, having been formally invited by Mrs. McAlister to sit in their pew. The most likely reason being that she would mind the little one and ensure he did not cause a disturbance during the service. She scanned the room for Arthur and found him sitting in the balcony with the other carriage drivers who had transported their employers to church.
Daniel noticed her staring, and leaned over to whisper. “I’m told it’s the new preacher’s doing. Came from the north to replace the old one that retired. Not too many churches hereabouts welcome the two races to sit under the same roof—even if they are working. At one time, they tolerated a sparse number of them out of necessity, simply because their status as wealthy landowners seemed to require someone to drive them to church. Nowadays, most of the congregation encourage their colored employees to attend an evangelical work they started up down the road. Truth is, if they send them away, they are not required to pay them for loafing around an hour while not actively working,”
“So, for those who continue to employ help on the Lord’s Day, keeping the balcony open suits the needs on both sides. The few gathered up there appear to be happy.” Gwen said.
“They are a seven-day-a-week religious bunch, I’ll say that for them. They’d find a reason to praise the Lord anywhere on God’s green earth. When they can’t go to their own church down-the-way, they don’t mind being up there—claim they are closer to heaven.”
She smiled. “I hope working side-by-side with former slaves will eventually break down some of the barriers and chip away at those out-dated principles that your family seems to boast of.”
“Don’t put me in the McAlister box, Nurse Gwen. I don’t fit in well.” He turned to face the altar as the organ started to play a hymn.
Voices harmonized to offer praise to God, and Gwen’s heart rejoiced as she tuned into the distinctive tones of the worshippers in the balcony. This was a place of hope, where new beginnings could flourish and spread a united gospel message throughout the country. She prayed that man did not thwart God’s plan of accord for His children.
The service was just what she needed. When the preacher began his message, Gwen was attentive, and Jake laid his head in her lap and fell fast asleep. God had sent his son to die for people who did not deserve His mercy and sacrifice, but love for His creation compelled Him. Gwen compared it to the many human fathers who had sent their sons to possibly die for their country during times of war in a definite act of love. The only difference being that man’s sacrifice did not provide eternal freedom from the curse of sin. Only Jesus could provide that freedom, and His willingness to go to the cross for mankind was a one-time deal—accept or reject—the choice was in the hands of mortal men now.
A father’s job was not easy. She glanced at Daniel and was pleased to see him listening attentively to the preacher’s words. He was now a father, whether he liked it or not, and would face uneasy decisions in the future. She prayed that God would soften his heart to accept His message of unfailing love.
As soon as the service was over, friends gathered around them, and when young Jake became the center of attention, Gwen noticed the discomfort of the family that had not yet accepted him as one of their own.
Gwen scooped up the boy and excused herself. As she passed by the stairs winding upward to the abandoned balcony, she picked up the infant and began to climb. At the top, she put the toddler down and peered over the railing. The congregation continued to visit while Pastor Harris shook hands with those departing the building. She pivoted, and peered at the four rows of hard benches that ran half the width of the sanctuary and could almost feel the history of enslaved worshippers seeking a moment of peace from their troubled lives in this secluded spot. It grabbed her soul in such a way that she felt tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.
She jumped when a hand rested on her arm.
“What are you doing up here?” Daniel asked.
“Visiting with ghosts of the past, I suppose.”
“Did your family own slaves?”
“No. My father works in town and hires a couple of men to assist him, but I did know others over the years.” She smiled and brushed away the wetness from her cheek. “Arthur sits up here,” she said, her voice flattening.
“Minding the buggy is his responsibility, and sad to say, he’d have to work the rest of his life to pay it off should some scallywag steal it. They draw lots to see who will stand guard just outside the door while the rest gather up here.” Daniel chuckled. “I’ve heard it said that the rafters shake when they get together with their own kind; a rather unruly and free-spirited congregation.”
“Are we not all free spirits?” Gwen asked.
“They worship differently, and many of the fine upstanding folks here consider it disrespectful, to put it kindly.”
“God loves all worship, be it inside His House, in the fields or in our homes. Life is an act of worship, Daniel, not to be confined inside a building or in the bondage of tradition.”
“You’ll get no argument from me,” said Daniel. “Maybe its all that stiff-laced tradition that turns me off. You, on the other hand, are to be commended—I appreciate a liberal thinker. But I should advise you not to converse
