Kumbaya

Today I remembered this:

When I was a little girl, my mom used to want me to play the quiet game on the way home from my grandma’s house. I was quite a little chatter box and it was good for me to calm down on the half hour drive home. (Maybe it wasn’t a whole half hour, but it always felt longer than that anyway, so I’ll go with it.)

My favorite part of these theoretically quiet drives was my mom singing Kumbaya to me and me singing with her sometimes. She would sing Kumbaya and it was as if my heart was transported. (I remember it differently than I’ve seen it recorded but that’s no matter to me.)

Someone’s laughing, my Lord. Kumbaya. Someone’s laughing, my Lord. Kumbaya. Someone’s laughing, my Lord. Kumbaya. Oh, Lord, kumbaya.

I remember thinking of a child laughing somewhere far, far away. It made me happy, it made my heart happy. Then though came a verse which always caught me off guard. Someone was crying and in my thoughts it was usually a woman. I don’t know why it was always a woman, but it always was a woman. Always a woman curled into herself, crying. Hurting. Feeling a pain in the deepest recesses of her heart. How I could imagine at such a young age the pain of a grown woman, I do not know. Perhaps it will forever be a mystery.

Someone’s crying, my Lord. Kumbaya. Someone’s crying, my Lord. Kumbaya. Someone’s crying, my Lord. Kumbaya. Oh, Lord, kumbaya.

The song ends on a happier note, the following verses speaking of someone praying and someone singing. The last one, the one about singing, always made me feel especially close to God and the angels. I felt like I was a part of my God and forever enveloped in the care of the angels. I’ve missed that feeling. Singing this song softly, quietly to myself today, I remembered that feeling and I felt it again. And I was deeply grateful for that experience with my mom, however many times we shared it.

Kumbaya, my Lord. Kumbaya. Kumbaya, my Lord. Kumbaya. Kumbaya, my Lord. Kumbaya. Oh Lord, kumbaya.

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~ by Elle on December 19, 2009.

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