Grandma Dancy was given to praying long and involved prayers. I admired her skill and basked in the esteem her ability brought her and our family at Little Flock Baptist Church. I have to admit though, I often wished she had saved her considerable skills for Sunday services. Grandma Dancy, however, “served the Lord each and every day.” If you happened to be with her when one of her good praying spells came upon her, she sweetly but insistently required you to join her on her knees. My uncles, Simuel and Albert, often checked to see that Grandma's eyes were closed and ever so quietly crawled out of the back door and disappeared. I was always afraid God, who was a personal acquaintance of Grandma Dancy, would alert her to my misdeeds and cause her eyes to open at the moment just before my escape. So I stayed and prayed with her often until my knees ached and my legs had gone to sleep.

Collard greens, hot water cornbread, buttermilk and peach cobbler were the treats on which we could rely at our regular afternoons in Grandma Dancy's care. The tasty greens simmered on the back eye of her immaculate white stove. The shiny black iron skillet sat poised on a front eye ready to assist Grandma in the magic she performed with flour, meal, milk, and a touch of sugar. […]