The Story Of Forgiveness!

The Story Of Forgiveness!

Mommy! Mommy, Mommy! She spit in Evelyn's face. She spit in Evelyn's face!

I was reluctant to move. I thought I'd be next.

I couldn't find mommy!

In my mind, I cried and I yelled, then I yelled and I cried!

I scoured the asphalt for a pebble, a tree branch, a rusted bottle cap. My heart threatened to escape my t-shirt.

Evelyn was 8 -years -old, we both were!

I wanted, no I needed to fight back, yet I froze as the mucus slid down baby girls chocolate face!

It was surreal.

The elderly white woman's green eyes and smug face shouted I'd kill you nigger if we were alone. You know I will!

We fought, well at least our eyes fought, for 3 1/2 seconds.

I was petrified.

Everyone was waving red, white and blue flags.

Then they weren't!

It felt like one million pairs of eyes were on me. Then they weren't.

We weren't in the cotton fields in the deep south or stowaways on some bus sneaking out of Selma.

Nooooo!

It was July 4th,1976. Liberation day!

We were in lower Manhattan, it was the Bicentennial celebration, on the riverfront, in New York City. There were pretty birds and little dogs running around.

The angry white lady with the cane simply backed away into the crowd, as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

Everybody saw, but nobody raised an eyebrow or mouthed a faint I'm with you.

I felt all alone.

As my salty tears merged with the sticky cotton candy all over my face, I angrily tossed the tiny U.S.A flag I'd been waving.

It was the day I lost my innocence.

In my mind, it was the most humbling and humiliating day ever, that is until I got pulled over by the blue lights of a State Trooper at 2:00 a.m. one snowy morning.

I nervously pulled over to the shoulder, then violently elbowed Denair Marie Huggins. I yelled Denair, wake up, wake up!

She went from being pissed, that it was her turn to drive again so quickly, to petrified at the sight of the trooper nearly yanking me into his patrol car.

Her eyes screamed Eddie don't go!

I was reluctant to move.

I wanted to yell, Mommy! Mommy, Mommy!

I scoured the asphalt for a pebble, a tree branch, a rusted bottle cap. My heart threatened to escape my t-shirt.

It was surreal.

We fought, well at least our eyes fought, for 3 1/2 seconds, before he shoved me in the front seat of his patrol car.

I wanted to yell. Do you know who I am? Check, the internet!

His green eyes and smug face shouted I'd kill you nigger if we were alone. You know I will!

He was everything the elderly white woman was, except instead of a walking cane, he was clutching a black 9-millimeter gun on his hip.

I wanted, no I needed to fight back, yet I froze, the second I felt the saliva of a killer K-9, dribble down the back of my neck.

I jumped. The Trooper flinched.

I said Eddie, you’re not “getting dead” tonight.

If you die, Denair dies!

Although completely still, my left eye alternated between the thirsty German shepherd clawing to get at my neck, and the gimmicky officer clutching his gun who kept asking have any idea why I pulled you over? Giggle! Have any idea why I pulled you over? Giggle!

I thought, oh he’s got jokes!

I was in a panic room, but I couldn’t afford to panic.

In my mind, I cried and I yelled, then I yelled and I cried.

I thought if he killed me, he’d just back into the crowd without a care in the world.

We weren't in the cotton fields in the deep south nor were we a pair of stowaways on some bus sneaking out of Selma. We were on a crowded highway for god sake!

Everybody saw, but nobody raised an eyebrow or mouthed a faint, I'm with you.

At that very moment, I said Eddie you need a savior!

Immediately, the winds stopped blowing. The snowing stopped falling. And I gained an amazing peace!

After another 30 minutes of the dog spraying me with tainted salvia and Officer Friendly alternating between calmly asking me why I’m irritated, then threatening to arrest me on disorderly charges, I was released with a smile, a disingenuous handshake, and a warning to never again drive on the white line.

As I gingerly headed back to the car, in the most non-threatening, tiptoeing motion known to man, I felt humiliated. I didn't want to be waving the white flag, or any flag for that matter.

Fireworks were going off in my head. This wasn't liberation.

I wanted to shout! It’s snowing. You know darn well the white lines aren’t even visible, idiot!

I felt persecuted. I felt all-alone! As I kicked the snow, I mumbled, I was crucified. There was no transgression. Well, that was the sanitized version of what I said.

I was angry, angry, angry!

I was angry with God.

I was angry with the old white lady who I still believed got away with murder.

I was angry with fido who wanted to commit murder.

I was angry with the snow.

I was angry with the cop.

I yelled, he’s going to hear from my lawyer. Well, it was more like a whisper, since I didn’t want back in the car, by the saber-toothed dog.

I immediately looked at my sister and thought who am I fooling? I’m just like most black people; we don’t keep lawyers on retainers.

Then I thought about mommy. She'd most likely say, Eddie, just be glad you survived, unscathed.

I thought, he should have just checked my name on the internet. As I thought, about my self-appointed greatness, it hit me like a ton of bricks, one by one by one!

I wasn’t the first person hated on, unfairly persecuted, spit on, boxed in, who felt all alone, who cried out to the Father!

There was 8-year-old Evelyn, Denair hunkered in the snowy car a few feet away, and mommy who survived after being stabbed 61 times by an assailant.

In my hour of need, my prayer was Father save me!

In His hour of need, He prayed Father, forgive them for they know not what they do!

I got angry again.

I thought, no no no Jesus, you’re not going to trick me into forgiving the trooper.

If it was up to me, I’d be driving down the road, singing, I shot the Sheriff, but I did not shoot the deputy.

Just then another scripture hit me, “He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: blah blah blah, and by his stripes, we are healed!

After being convicted, (spiritually, that is) I’d love to tell you, I prayed for that trooper’s health, well-being and forgiveness. If I did, I’d be lying.

My little prayer today is more like Lord, no more dogs, no more snow, no more flying spit, and definitely no more troopers!

Seriously!

In all honesty, the beauty of this story for me, and for those reading this morning, is that we’re still here!

Are you getting this? We are still here!

And because we are, we have the wonderful opportunity to forget about the petty spitting, and the bricks folk sling our way, and focus on the Savior, who in the midst of real real suffering, offered healing or shall I say forgiveness to a thief, on a filthy cross!

What a selfless story of liberty.

What an amazing story of forgiveness!