Christmas Story: The Preacher/The Pay

I remember this one Christmas Season when we had one of my father's preacher friends come over for a visit. I had to give up my room. I would still like to know why. (Although I do know why.) We had a three-bedroom house. One bedroom was my parents', one was mine, and the last one, was my father's study/office. (Why is it that the kids have to suffer when company comes over? Anyway, that's one for the ages.) So, with my dad's friend over, I ended up sleeping on a cot in my father's study. My dad's friend came over for the weekend (Thursday through Monday). As usual, I was practicing on my keyboard. I was playing when my Dad's friend came in the living room, where my keyboard was kept. He said, "You play pretty good. How old are you?" I responded, "I am 12 years old." He smiled and said, "Can you back a preacher up?" I said, "Yes." He said, "Okay, let me see what you can do." Then he started preaching. I mean preaching. He was tuning up, hitting riffs, sang preaching, and everything. And stranger still, I was backing him up. I promise you, I thought I was in church. Ole boy was hooping up a storm. He was preaching as if we were in a church jam packed with folk who were saying "Amen" and "Preach Preacher." After about ten minutes, my mother came into the living room. She walked in from the side where I could see her. I smiled, shrugged my shoulders, and kept on playing. She turned around smiling and walked away. A few minutes later, my mother came back into the living room and my father was with her. The thing you need to know about my father is that he loves to hear preachers preaching, so when my father saw his friend preaching, my father began encouraging him. Now, the living room for sho' felt like church. My mother left the living room laughing. I thought I needed to call for an usher because she was laughing so hard that she could barely walk. The sermon continued for about another 10 minutes. The dude was sweating. He had preached so hard, he was actually sweating. He had finally calmed down. He sung "Yes Lord." That was my song, so I could play that very well. My daddy was talking to him about his sermon. I assumed that my job was over, so I stood up from the keyboard, walked out of the living room, walked into my parents' room, fell on the bed and laughed forever. Well, Sunday morning I got a surprise. Bishop Harmon said, "Today we have a guest speaker. Eld. Mannford will be preaching to us this morning. Let's give him a hand as he comes." Eld. Mannford took the podium. He gave honor, said a few other words, and then said, "If you all don't mind, I brought my musician with me. Shannon could you come on up here and play for me." I looked around to see if he was talking about someone else. I looked at him, then at my father. They both were smiling at me. I looked at my mother. She told me to go on and play for him. It isn't that I was shy or anything, I wasn't. I just didn't like to be surprised like that. I didn't move at first. Then Eld. Mannford said, "Ya'll give her a hand as she comes." Everyone started clapping. My mother nudged me, so I had to go then. I went up to the front of the church and sat on the organ. The minister of music looked at me as if I stolen something. I pushed it out of my mind. Eld. Mannford began singing "Yes Lord." I played the song. He preached. He started off slower than he had the day he preached at my house. He talked for about 20 minutes, and then he did the same riff that he had done at my house. I knew that was my cue to play. He preached, I played, everyone talked back to him. He preached some more, I played some more, everyone talked back to him some more. He finally finished. He performed the altar call. I was unsure of what to play then. I looked at my father for a clue of what to play. Eld. Mannford begin to sing a song I had never heard before. I was having a hard time playing it. The minister of music almost grabbed me by my collar and snatched me off the organ. Eld. Mannford looked at the musician. Whatever that look meant, the musician left me alone. Eld. Mannford sung the song again; this time I caught enough of it to fake my way through. By the end of the altar call, I could play the song as if I had been playing it for years. After service, Eld. Mannford came over to me and hugged me. He said that I played very well. He then said, "Don't you ever let anyone make you get up from the organ unless you want to get up!" I have never forgotten that either. As he was leaving, he handed me a 20-dollar bill. That was the first time I had ever gotten paid to play.

Keyboard Christmas, The Keyboard

The keyboard was very nice. It was only about three years old. It was a Beverian Portable Keyboard. It had the sound and feel of an acoustic piano. It also had several other sounds on it including an organ and a bass. It also had a pitch bend wheel. It came with a stand. It was black. It could be connected to an amplifier. I was so proud of my keyboard. The first few weeks I had it, I was always playing it. I think I got on my parents' nerves because my father told me that I couldn't play the thing for a whole week. I thought I was going to pass out because I couldn't play my keyboard.

Keyboard Christmas, The Blessing

I learned later on how my parents were able to get me the keyboard. Actually my parents had talked about it and had decided that they couldn't get me the keyboard for Christmas. It was not cost effective that Christmas. My mother said that she was so hurt about it that she went and prayed about it. So, there were two prayers up before God about my keyboard. My Sunday School teacher went up to my parents after Sunday School that Sunday I had requested prayer and told them that I had requested prayer for the keyboard. My mother looked hurt. My father just shook his head. My Sunday School teacher told them not to worry because her friend was a pastor and his church had just gotten a new keyboard. He had been looking for someone to give the keyboard to, but every time he tried to give it away to someone, the spirit told him not to give it to that person. My Sunday School teacher said, "When Shannon raised her hands and made a prayer request, I heard, the keyboard is for her. So, I am going to call my friend to see when you all can go pick up the keyboard." My father told her no and that she didn't have to do that. My Sunday School teacher and mother ganged up on the poor man and told him, "This is a blessing from the Lord, you are going to go pick up the keyboard and give it to Shannon." My father had no choice. God is an awesome God!

Keyboard Christmas

At the age of ten, I asked my parents to get me a piano, keyboard, or organ for Christmas. My Mom gave me that mother's "We'll See Look." My Dad just smirked at me. I figured I wasn't gonna really get it. In our Sunday School class, each Sunday our teacher asked us if we had any prayer request. I knew that prayer worked. I raised my hand. The teacher asked what was my request. I said, "I want the Lord to bless me with a keyboard." She said, "Alright, we will pray for you." Several other kids raised their hands with their prayer requests. This guy named Mardell Coleston was asked to pray. Mardell was 10 years old. He said that he had been called to be a preacher. Everyone called him Minister as well. He could pray something fierce. I had never heard him preach before, but he preached anything like he prayed, we were going to be an awesome preacher. He prayed the ending prayer. He prayed with such an anointing that Sunday that we almost went to having church in our Sunday School class. Our Sunday School teacher went to speaking in tongues and everything. Everyone in the class knew that something was going to happen as a result of that prayer. After Sunday School, Mardell came up to me and said, "God's gonna bless you with a keyboard, so you can play for me when I do my revivals. Remember I said that. God told me that I was supposed to ask you to play for me when I do my revivals. I ask for a sign to be sure. Your prayer request was the sign I needed. Just know that God is going to give you that keyboard." I nodded my head to signify that I had heard him, but I wasn't too sure about what he had said. I will be the first one to admit that I didn't go in much for the deep religiosity that some people go in for. But something inside me clicked with Mardell when he said what he said. I just shrugged it off because I wasn't sure about playing for Mardell. Plus I didn't think my father would let me play for him. I went on believing that I was going to get my keyboard. I didn't bug my parents. I didn't say anything else to them. I just knew in my spirit that I was going to get my keyboard. I still wasn't sure about playing for Mardell, but I knew I was getting my keyboard. I woke up on Christmas morning. I ran to the living room with expectation. I was looking for any indication that my keyboard was in the house. There was no indication. I felt a bit dejected, but then I heard a voice say, "He may not come when you want Him, but He's always on time." The feeling of dejection left. I opened all my Christmas gifts with a smile on my face and confidence in my heart. I never asked my parents about the keyboard. After all, Mardell never said that I was going to get it for Christmas. That year, we went over to my uncle's house for dinner. We ate dinner. It was time to go in the living room and sing Christmas carols. My uncle said, "I sure we had a piano or something so Shannon could play for us." Then my father and one of my cousins walked into the living room carrying a keyboard. My father said, "Now she does." I screamed and ran to grab my father. I almost made my father drop his end of the keyboard. My cousin yelled for me to move. They got the keyboard set-up and plugged in. I sat down at the keyboard. The first thing I started playing on it was some shouting music. I will never know what came over me, but that's what my fingers went to playing. The next thing I know, my father, mother, uncle, and three of my cousins were dancing and praising the Lord. Now that I think back on the day, it is kind of funny to me, but on that Christmas, my family and I had a shouting good time. God had blessed me with a keyboard for Christmas.

No Particular Order

My stories are in no particular order. I just add them as I think of them. The whole thing is that all of the stories not matter the order, have lead to My Evolution As A Church Girl.

My Christmas Song

By the time I was 9 years old, I could play pretty good. I thought I had finally convinced the sunshine band director to let me play in the Christmas play. I wanted to play Silent Night as a piano solo. She said, "We'll see," of my request. I didn't know what that really mean. The day of the Christmas program, I had on a brand new freshly pressed dress. I had on a brand new pair of stockings, which I hated wearing. I had on some new shoes that matched my dress, plus my hair was styled. I sat and waited the whole program to play my Christmas Song. As the last person did their thing, I thought to myself, "My song is going to be the last thing everyone remembers." Well, the mistress of ceremony asked for the benediction from the pulpit. The elder benedicted. I ran to my mother's arms, weeping. My mother gave me another saint and went over to the Sunshine Band director and gave her a piece of her mind. Later, my mother told me that I could quit the Sunshine Band if I wanted to, which I wanted to do. My father, the diplomat that he is said, "Baby, you can't quit because something doesn't go your way. What if Christ had come down off that cross?" That made me mad. My dad's answer to everything was, "What if Christ had come down off the cross?" I didn't quit the Sunshine Band. I never got to play my Christmas song either.