Colored Water

I just finished the book, "The Color of Water" in which Ruth, the main character, tells one of her 12 children who asks, "What color is God?"..she replies, "God is the color of water." This white woman married an African American man. The story of her life, her struggles, her faith pilgrimage from Jewish to Christian, and her views of God are fascinating stuff.

I am reminded of the poem I wrote years ago when I reflected on that day in Biloxi Mississippi when as a child I mistakenly drank from the "colored" water fountain. It was around the corner from the "white only" fountain. Here are my "old" words:
Colored Water

"Colored" read the sign above the fountain
whose water I had drunk
Would I be sick from drinking "colored" water?
For I was "white only
though but a child

I asked a big person
but my mistaken drink was washed away with
words
So I waited to see if I would turn ill
or perhaps "colored"
for no one would say

There was only laughter at my childish question
and the strange word, "nigger" tossed about like
a toy
some strange enjoyment I did not understand

Now I am a "big person" with no signs to read above
fountains
And my children laugh when I tell them the
colored water story
For they do not understand how water could
make people sick

Ah but we "big people" do know that colored water did make people sick. Ruth learned it. We who have age on us remember the fountain of racism, the "colored" balcony at the movies, the back of the bus world, and that other part of town that was called "colored."

We had to learn that God "is" the color of water. It is we who are God's creation that attach labels and make water and even people "colored."

Have we learned? My children disbelieve me when I tell them that there were really fountains that read, "colored." They think I'm making it up. They can't believe anyone would really do that. There's hope. They can't believe it. I hope they believe along with Ruth that God is the color of water.
Bless you,
jody jseymour@davidsonumc.org