Rev. Barber asked me to submit this diary/blog entry for him. Enjoy.
When I was growing up in Eastern North Carolina, I used to love to sit in my grandmama’s kitchen and listen to her sing as she made dinner. Whenever she was done cooking, she’d give me a plate to eat. Then she and some of the other sisters from the church would make up some to-go plates and, with their aprons still on, head out the door to visit the sick and shut-in. “We going to hope somebody,” Grandmama would say.