Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness around the world.

Carol’s Corner

August 2, 2007

Here gang is a preview of my new book, you can purchase your copy of

Angels Watching Over me

Angels Watching Over Me

Carol Roach

Prologue

Carissa sat watching TV on a cold January evening. She looked around her home. The house was immaculate just the way she liked it. The cream coloured carpet was as fresh looking as the day she bought it, though it was already three years old. The black plush sofa and chair gave the otherwise off-white room the contrast it needed. Even the black television, stereo console, wall unit, and coffee table all matched. For the first time in her life, Carissa had the beautiful home she always dreamed about. She no longer settled for broken or rundown furniture. She never expected to be poor again. At the age of fifty-seven, Carissa had finally reached the place where she always wanted to be and life was good.

The phone rang. She decided to let the answering machine pick up. Normally she enjoyed talking on the phone rather than watching TV. This evening she felt like relaxing and shutting the world out. She had a long tiring day of cleaning houses; the only job an uneducated black woman felt she could get in this predominately French-speaking city. Montreal, though beautiful, could also be a heartless city for the uneducated, the English speaking community and the poor. 

Ever since Carissa came to Montreal in the days of her youth, she scrimped and saved to make a better life for herself and her child. Only now did she feel she had accomplished her goals. This cleaning lady as she often referred to herself had a tiny nest egg for rainy days. 

The television program ended. She took a long hot bubble bath then cuddled up in the sofa chair with a good book. She followed this routine each night until sleepy enough to retire to her bedroom. It appeared she was overtired this evening; her mind drifted from the novel to days gone by. Carissa began to dream about her youth in the rural community where she was born.

Chapter 1

It seemed like a thousand years before; a time she thought was long buried in the recesses of her mind. Yet tonight, after a long hard day of work, Carissa relived her life as it unfolded through a dream.

She was only four years old the last time she set eyes on her Papa. Much of the story was told to her by her siblings who had the opportunity to know him better. Some of the story dated back to 1921 when Papa was just a lad himself.

She hardly knew her Papa in this life yet he was always with her in spirit; a driving force who gave her solace well into her adult years.

****

They were poor, yet they were happy in 1951. That was the year which was forever embedded in Carissa’s childhood memories and the year her dream actually began.

Winchester Forbes was a fisherman. He combed the waters of the local lakes as well as the Atlantic Ocean for Cod; Mackerel, Salmon, and Lobster. He worked hard to make a living, though he felt bad leaving his beloved wife for long periods. Kate Forbes had a heart problem. She was born with a heart murmur and was sickly all her life. It was a wonder she was able to give him the six wonderful children they had. They were simple country folk. They did not question how life turned out for them. They trusted in God.  

The families of Winchester and Kate came to Canada through the Underground Railroad where their ancestors had escaped from American slavery. Both families made a new life in Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia.

Carissa had been told that Nova Scotia in general welcomed American slaves, but it was Cape Breton Island which had captured the heart of her grandfather, a man who died many years before her own birth.  Her grandfather had the choice to live and work on the northern side of the island in the steel mines immediately upon settlement, but it was the beautiful picturesque coast, the smell of the salt air and the wonder of the sea which appealed to his soul. For him the sea personified the idea of total abandonment; it personified freedom.

Winchester knew the history of his people. His father had told him of many racial slurs and Winchester had witnessed some from a very young age himself. Because of his family legacy nothing was more important to him than freedom and the equality of all men.

Though he was fortunate to grow up a proud man in a free country, as a little boy he watched his father, a pillar of the negro community, greatly loved and respected by his people, belittle himself in front of the white man. These were the effects of family conditioning, a throwback from their American roots. Winchester was taught to be subservient to the white man. When he questioned his family on why they accepted such behaviour from the white man he was told to be quiet.

“Winchester, his grandpa would often tell him,” you must leave these problems to God, there is no sense stirring up trouble. The white man don’t change for the likes of us poo coloured folk. So we bees quiet and go about our business.”

“But grandpa, that white man spit on Papa, and Papa did nothin.”

“Boy, you are just a lad, 10-years-old, you are too young to understand these things, let it be son, let it be.”

It was explained to Carissa as far back as 1921, when this conversation took place with Papa and his grandfather, that Winchester realized to talk to his family about self respect was useless. They were not physical slaves in this new country but their minds and souls were still enslaved.

The next occasion when he went into town with his Papa, he stood quietly, with clenched hands and quivering lip as a tall white man shoved his Papa out of the way to get the better choices of meat at the market. He also stood quietly when the bus did not stop to pick them up and they had to walk 10 miles to get back home. When he finally made it home, he didn’t tell his grandpa about his day. He didn’t complain or question the events that had transpired. He simply went out back and kicked the dirt with his shoe until his momma called him in to wash up for supper.

He grew up to be a hardworking and very quiet young man. He kept to himself and spoke only when spoken to. He was very much like his father before him. But the difference was Winchester was a proud man who believed that all men were created equal in the eyes of God and all men were free to speak their minds if the occasion presented itself. For him freedom meant more than an ideology which spouted out rhetoric about equality. When his people went to the market they should not have to settle for second best. Freedom was a release from oppression in whatever way it manifested itself.

You will need to read the book to find out the surprise ending to chapter 1

Click this link to the book: Angels Watching Over Me

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Check out her newest book,

Angels Watching Over Me. http://www.lulu.com/content/964306