My Uncle Red Kept Shoes on My Feet and the Knowledge of God in My Heart

He was my father’s oldest brother, the only male in our family with a job that paid good wages. Whichever of our aunts my sister and I resided with would call Uncle Red when we needed shoes for school. Back in the 1950s, in the summer, we went barefoot most of the time. Because we didn’t go to church, we didn’t need dress shoes, but he would come and buy us sneakers for school or walking to town.

He was a man who loved the Lord and one of the few people in my family who attended church. It bothered him that my sister and I did not know God. I had only attended church for one year in my youth. But when my sister and cousins saw his truck coming up our street, they ran and scattered, not wanting to hear him preach.

Contrarily, I was so excited to see him and learn the Bible. He was smart and taught me many things about treating others with respect and about loving all people, regardless of race. This was the 1950s and 1960s, and how he stayed positive in light of the discrimination and prejudice that he experienced as a black man was a mystery at first. However, when I look back, I realize that his faith was the key to his not hating white people. He held one of the lowliest positions at the railroads because black men could only do the grunt work.

But the lessons he taught me in generosity, helping those with less, and the love of God for me never left me. As a minister, those days of reading the Bible with him and hearing his explanations given with such joy and heartfelt love for God still resonate in my sermons.

Something as small as buying me shoes made me feel loved and cared for. It taught me that every child needs someone they can depend on. It was a lesson I needed later in life, and I still live by the lessons he taught me. I wish he’d been able to hear me preach, so he could have witnessed the fruits of his amazing labor.

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