The Devil Made Me Do It Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Colette R. Harrell
loved him for forty-one years. I plan to keep on loving him until the day I cross over; and then we gonâ keep on loving each other in our mansion in heaven. Love donât stop âcause you ainât with the person. Whatâs sowed, nurtured, and given care will bloom continually.â
She watched Esther look down at her hands and pick at her nails. âGuess you thinking you were only checking on an old woman and not looking for a lecture.â Mother Reed cupped Estherâs face. âIâm trying to share something important with you, honey. Life treated me hard. I was in an abusive first marriage, and did you know I have a son? He was a year old the last time I saw him. But, I pray for him every day. I call them prayers on deposit. Donât know when heâll need them, but theyâll be there to bring him through. My first husband took him from me. Sweetheart, for ten years I lived in pain. I had no man, no child, and no home.â
Mother Reed closed her eyes as she spoke of long ago. âThe day I came into this church, I was thirty years old. I walked up to the altar, laid it, and cried my heart out. Bishop Dawkins, heâs gone on to glory now, God rest his soul, took one look at me and took me up to his office. It was on a Saturday, and he was preparing for that Sundayâs sermon. When he talked to me, he opened my eyes, and God opened my heart. Later, I met Anthony in the same pew I sit in today. Esther, I know you donât like to talk about your past. But Love Zion is a small church, and we all know it anyway.â
Esther looked startled when she heard this.
âNow, donât get upset. People were talking in love, chile. Nobody wants to see ya in pain. Esther, he took your pride and money. But he couldnât take your soul. That you had to give to him. Let it go, baby. Be the bush that is set on fire, but not consumed. You donâ let that man kill you. All thatâs left is the burying. I want you to stay with me in the land of the living.â Mother Reed looked at the blank expression on Estherâs face. âWell,â she continued, âI done preached you twice today. I better get on home. Donât come by this Saturday. Go use your day off to do something fun for yourself,â she admonished, rising from the wooden bench. âBye, baby.â She kissed Estherâs cheek and tottered off slowly on her cane.
Esther gathered her purse, journal, and Bible and hurried out of the church.
Chapter Five
Sweat beaded across Estherâs body as the sheets stuck to her plump shapely thighs. She tossed and turned into the night, but the sheets twisted, clung, and rode her wave of sleeplessness. She could not get comfortable. She hadnât come up with any answers to Mother Reedâs questions. Instead of a peaceful sleep, she was caught up in a Minnie Riperton flashback and was strolling down memory lane.
Restless, she reached under her bed for her memory box. She riffled through it and dug out two pictures. They represented all that was left of her life with her ex-husband, Roger. One of the pictures portrayed two eager faces, blissful and optimistic on a day beaming with sunshine and promises. It was their beginning . . .
Esther sat on a bench hypnotized by the flow of the Detroit River. It was like life, not pretty, but it kept flowing, moving, to its rightful place. She had done it, after a three-year delay. She was getting her bachelorâs in social work. Between her job, classes, and church activities she was busy but not fulfilled. She couldnât even lie; she was alone and lonely. She pushed away thoughts of the love she threw away.
âIf I ever have a chance at happiness again,â she spoke to the still dark water.
She loved coming to the riverfront. During the week it was peaceful, and she could think without being hassled.
A honeyed voice tinged with interest interrupted her musing. âSis, mind if I sit
She watched Esther look down at her hands and pick at her nails. âGuess you thinking you were only checking on an old woman and not looking for a lecture.â Mother Reed cupped Estherâs face. âIâm trying to share something important with you, honey. Life treated me hard. I was in an abusive first marriage, and did you know I have a son? He was a year old the last time I saw him. But, I pray for him every day. I call them prayers on deposit. Donât know when heâll need them, but theyâll be there to bring him through. My first husband took him from me. Sweetheart, for ten years I lived in pain. I had no man, no child, and no home.â
Mother Reed closed her eyes as she spoke of long ago. âThe day I came into this church, I was thirty years old. I walked up to the altar, laid it, and cried my heart out. Bishop Dawkins, heâs gone on to glory now, God rest his soul, took one look at me and took me up to his office. It was on a Saturday, and he was preparing for that Sundayâs sermon. When he talked to me, he opened my eyes, and God opened my heart. Later, I met Anthony in the same pew I sit in today. Esther, I know you donât like to talk about your past. But Love Zion is a small church, and we all know it anyway.â
Esther looked startled when she heard this.
âNow, donât get upset. People were talking in love, chile. Nobody wants to see ya in pain. Esther, he took your pride and money. But he couldnât take your soul. That you had to give to him. Let it go, baby. Be the bush that is set on fire, but not consumed. You donâ let that man kill you. All thatâs left is the burying. I want you to stay with me in the land of the living.â Mother Reed looked at the blank expression on Estherâs face. âWell,â she continued, âI done preached you twice today. I better get on home. Donât come by this Saturday. Go use your day off to do something fun for yourself,â she admonished, rising from the wooden bench. âBye, baby.â She kissed Estherâs cheek and tottered off slowly on her cane.
Esther gathered her purse, journal, and Bible and hurried out of the church.
Chapter Five
Sweat beaded across Estherâs body as the sheets stuck to her plump shapely thighs. She tossed and turned into the night, but the sheets twisted, clung, and rode her wave of sleeplessness. She could not get comfortable. She hadnât come up with any answers to Mother Reedâs questions. Instead of a peaceful sleep, she was caught up in a Minnie Riperton flashback and was strolling down memory lane.
Restless, she reached under her bed for her memory box. She riffled through it and dug out two pictures. They represented all that was left of her life with her ex-husband, Roger. One of the pictures portrayed two eager faces, blissful and optimistic on a day beaming with sunshine and promises. It was their beginning . . .
Esther sat on a bench hypnotized by the flow of the Detroit River. It was like life, not pretty, but it kept flowing, moving, to its rightful place. She had done it, after a three-year delay. She was getting her bachelorâs in social work. Between her job, classes, and church activities she was busy but not fulfilled. She couldnât even lie; she was alone and lonely. She pushed away thoughts of the love she threw away.
âIf I ever have a chance at happiness again,â she spoke to the still dark water.
She loved coming to the riverfront. During the week it was peaceful, and she could think without being hassled.
A honeyed voice tinged with interest interrupted her musing. âSis, mind if I sit