Suncatchers by Jamie Langston Turner Page A

playing. He hadn’t known she was the pianist. It was a bright and happy song she was playing, and when she hit the final bass chord, the large man stood up behind the pulpit and smiled jubilantly.
    â€œThat’s Willard Scoggins,” whispered Eldeen. “He’s our Sunday school superintendent and the song leader both.” The man had a round congenial face, and all his features seemed to have drifted toward the center of it.
    â€œLet’s all sing the song Jewel just played,” Willard said, and off he went, starting on a slightly lower note than Jewel but adjusting his pitch quickly. He waved his arms vigorously, his full baritone voice filling the auditorium. It was a song Perry had never heard before, one about counting your blessings and naming them one by one. Eldeen sang quite loudly and an octave lower than the other women. Joe Leonard’s voice was high and reedy but not at all timid as Perry would have expected. The boy sang out with confidence in a section where all the voices seemed to be repeating snatches of the refrain at different times.
    After the song Willard asked if there were any visitors. Eldeen immediately raised her hand and spoke out. “We’ve brought our new neighbor with us. This here’s Perry Warren. He’s Beth’s sister. I mean, she’s his brother.” Everyone laughed. “Oh, well, the two of them’s brother and sister,” she said. “Some of you’ve met Beth before on visitation.”
    Willard nodded. “Yes, we remember Beth. She’s the one we all prayed for several times.” Perry wondered if Beth knew this. She had never mentioned coming to this church. What was “visitation” anyway? Were these people praying for Beth behind her back? And what for?
    Willard went on to announce a churchwide Sunday school social coming up in March and requested prayer for a couple of people he called “shut-ins,” a term Perry had never heard before. After another lively song, one in which the repeated phrase was “Send the light!” everyone got up and headed through the two doors at the front of the auditorium, talking cheerfully as they went. Perry heard Eldeen call to a small black-haired woman, asking if her daffodils were up yet. The woman gasped and reached back to grab Eldeen’s hand. “Oh, honey, you should see the ones on the creek bank!” she said. “They look like a picture!”
    Harvey Gill, teacher of the Willing Workers, appeared to be around sixty. He was almost totally bald but had a firm lean face and the posture of a military officer. He held his Bible spread open in his left hand the entire time he spoke, and Perry marveled at the freedom of his gestures. Never once did he catch the edge with his other hand and flip it over or let it tilt and slip off, not even when he read some verses near the back of the Bible. He often made large sweeping motions with both hands to emphasize some point, all the while keeping his Bible balanced perfectly. He never seemed to tire of holding his arm out in the same position, and when he turned pages to read different verses, Perry wondered how he could find them so quickly since there didn’t seem to be any markers in his Bible.
    The lesson was titled “The Hidden Manna” and centered on God’s provision for His people. Jewel shared her Bible with Perry since he hadn’t brought one. He didn’t even own a Bible, but he made a mental note to get one as soon as possible. Perry noticed that the margins of most of the pages in Jewel’s Bible were filled with handwritten notes and many verses were underlined. The cover was limp and beginning to split at the binding. It appeared to Perry that she needed a new Bible almost as much as a new broom.
    Harvey Gill shook Perry’s hand heartily afterward and invited him back to the Willing Workers class. “It’s always an honor to have visitors,” he said.