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But Momma seemed to understand she said it was because white folks thought the Muslims were militant, so white folks was always messing with ’em-you know, harassing them, arresting them, threatening them. And they searched us too, which pissed me off. I didn’t like them because when we got to their church (which they called a mosque), they made us change our clothes and put on some of their clothes: floor-length dresses and material to wrap our heads in so our hair wouldn’t show. God or no God, I wasn’t giving up Christmas! Then we tried the Muslims (or the “Black Muslims,” as Momma called them). They were cool, till I learned they didn’t celebrate Christmas. I got to go with her on some of those searches. Still, Momma said she wanted more from God, so for the past couple of years she’d been searching for more. In fact, her daddy was a Methodist preacher. My momma knew God-she was raised a Methodist. “I didn’t know much about God, ’cept that if you pissed Him off, He’d getcha one day.
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