The Praying Old Lady

The Praying Old Lady

My mother sent for me after I had spent two years living with my aunt Lydia in St. Croix. Now I was back with my mom in Brooklyn, New York.

Mostly I was excited that I would see my grandmother Emma again. On Fridays after she got out of work, she would pick me up and take me home with her on the train. It was a treat to know I could spend a weekend with her.  

Abuela, as I called her, was a seamstress. My wardrobe was non-existent when I came to live in Brooklyn from the island. My grandmother would search through scraps of leftover materials and would sew me a little dress in no time; I was aware I would look presentable when we attended the church service on Sunday.

During the summer months, I spent more days with her whenever she took time off from the dress factory. She would teach me to sew dresses for a Skipper doll I had at age 8. Whenever I was with her, I would hand sew my doll a dress with the same material I was wearing.

Another thing she did was sing hymns so that I would learn them. I know hundreds of them thanks to her. Yet, if anything can top learning these songs of praise, it was when her friend came to pray with her.

When her elderly friend came over, they would kneel by the bed and pray about many situations. I was not allowed in the room, but I could see them from the living room where I was told to wait and instructed not to make noise. I was to look at the Life magazines or the National Geographic ones that lay on the living room table.

However, the presence of the Holy Spirit was so viable, I had no desire to look at the magazines. I wanted to pray with them and enjoy what they were enjoying! My grandmother had no idea why I preferred to be in the bedroom with them for I could not fully express it at that time. The Holy Spirit was already calling me to enjoy His Holy presence, but the adults did not get it.

The adults might think their children are too young to enjoy prayer, but when the Holy Spirit is at work in an atmosphere where hearts are expecting, the moment is right for children to learn to seek Him prayerfully, in spirit and in truth.

I do not remember the praying lady’s name, but I can still see her smooth dark face radiating with a blessed smile. I thank God for my grandmother Emma, and that praying old lady!