It was a hot muggy morning in Barbados. I decided to catch a minibus from Rendezvous to Bridgetown, walk to Lower Greens and then catch another minibus to Wansted, which is near The University of the West Indies.
I exited the first bus and started my deliberate walk to Lower Greens. Today, I decided rather than walk straight down Broad Street or alongside the Careenage, the most direct routes, I detoured through the Frank Collymoure Hall area, a modern complex, which sits next to the Cathedral Church of St Michael and All Angels.
I love theses old limestone structures and the fabulous mahogany carvings and furniture. So when I get in close proximity to one of these churches, I can’t help myself. I must investigate. As I walked up to the entrance, there were a couple of men dead asleep in the graveyard. Neither one noticed my coming nor going. I guess it was a very quiet place for a rest.
I entered the church and my excitement took over. But, I did notice this tiny but pleasant lady creating a live floral display at the back of the church. She greeted me warmly, and I continued into the church with my iPhone camera and started snapping away. Once I was satisfied with my recordings, I proceeded to exit the church.
On my way passing the little lady, still working on the flowers, I complemented her work and she asked if I attended the church. I told her that I didn’t and my last visit to this church was about three years ago for a funeral. So, where do you go to church?, she asked. I go to the Seventh Day Adventist Church, I told her. So you are an Adventist? She asked. Then she commenced to tell me her story.
I had a friend who was an Adventist lady. We became really good friends. I could go to her home on a Friday evening and we would have worship together. We became really good friends. She continued her story. Sometime ago, I had a heart attack and was in the hospital for quite sometime. My friend came regularly and visited and prayed with me. One day, she asked if she could bring some friends. I said ok. She told me they came and sang and prayed with her which lifted her spirits.
A few weeks later, she told me, her friend asked again if she could bring some people. She agreed. To my surprise, she said , they didn’t pray as usual. Instead, her friend said, we are here for a celebration. Her face lit up beautifully as she reminisced about that time. We had such a wonderful time that day, she said. How is your friend? I asked. She tipped her head down, the smile faded, and she said my friend is dead.
While we were talking, she was cleaning up and I was helping her pickup the flower and palm clippings. The job was done and I was ready to move on. Btw, I am Stan, what’s your name? I asked. With this beautiful smile, she said, I am Anita. I shook her hand and started to walk away. She said, hey, pray for me.
Dr. Stan Brooks