Sam Bass – Author

Guest Appearance: Millie Sparks with “This Little Light”

Not long ago, I started a new website, with the help of Kent Swecker of A New Machine. It was called “Stories From The Banks.” The idea was to capture, as many of the oral traditions, the wonderful stories of Down East as possible before they died with their colorful tellers. I soon realized the project was larger than one person – a busy person. I contacted my friend Karen Anspacher, Director of the Core Sound Waterfowl Museum & Heritage Center to ask if she and the museum would take it over. She was excited and agreed. I hope to transfer it to her soon.

This past Friday night, I attended a monthly poetry and prose reading at the History Museum of Carteret County. I was taken by a story read by Millie Sparks. It was a heartwarming and hilarious story about a Down-East six-year-old little girl named Cassidy. Millie graciously agreed to let me share it with you.

Millie Sparks lives in Davis, NC and works for the Carteret County Public Library System as the Programs and Outreach Coordinator. She has been married for the past 17 years to Destry Sparks, who proposed to her by putting her engagement ring in a McDonald’s apple pie box. Millie and Destry do not have children because they both are fond of Sunday afternoon naps and do not like to share their food. Millie took up writing at the age of eight. Today she writes both humorous fiction and serious essays about mental health. She has always found writing to be cathartic. Millie’s six-year-old fictional character, Cassidy, is based on her own experiences growing up in a Pentecostal Holiness Church. She is a Christian and loves Jesus, but she does cuss a little and has been known by her nieces and nephews to cheat at the card game, Uno.

You have the option of reading Millie’s story or listening to her wonderful style of telling. I strongly encourage listening.

 

“This Little Light”

by Millie Sparks

Used to, before I would go to sleep at night, Mama’d read to me out of this real big book ‘bout Jesus.  I liked to listen to my Mama talkin’ but I didn’t never know what she was talkin’ ‘bout ‘cause Jesus and them ‘postles sure did talk funny.  One time I asked my Mama who wrote that big book, and she told me it was The Word of God.

I said, “Let me see,” and she showed me the inside of that big book.  “It’s called The Word of God?”  and she said yes.  “But Mama, that book’s got whole lots of words in it.”  And I told her maybe she had it mixed up, and it was The Words of God, and then I made her count to ten with me, ‘cause my Mama was usually real smart, but she done forgot how to count that night.

After my Mama’d leave my room at night, I’d scream and holler and tell her that them monsters was goin’ to get me.  So for my birthday she bought me a red flashlight and told me to shine it in the dark corners of my room, and it’d make the monsters disappear.  And I told my Mama I didn’t know she knew magic and she just smiled and smiled.

Now, when I turn on my flashlight, I shine it on her picture ‘side my bed.  My daddy put it there and he said, “Don’t she look like an angel?”  And I told my daddy that I hain’t never seen no real live angel only the angel at church they put on top of the tree at Christmas and it had a head that’d pop off.  I asked my daddy if angels got heads that pop off like the one at church ‘cause I sure would like to see one if they do.  My daddy just puffed out some air like he had too much inside of him and then he kissed me and said, “Night, Pumpkin.”  And then I asked him if he would read to me ‘bout Jesus and the ‘postles and he said, “No, I don’t think so.  Not tonight.”  And left my room.

I’ve always gone to church for as long as I can remember, and one Sunday we sang This Little Light of Mine.  Ms. Dexter, my Sunday School teacher, made the primary class all hold candles and sing it so that we could practice for the Christmas pageant one more week away she said.  So I don’t know what that song was talkin’ ‘bout, but I was glad when it was over, and I got to blow out my candle because wax had started to roll onto my hand and it was very hot and hurt real bad.

After church, Ms. Dexter drove me home in her big blue car.  She had stinky hair that wouldn’t move and there were crinkly lines around her eyes that got even more skinny when she smiled.  She had a lot of cigarette butts in the ashtray of her car, and I thought probably Jesus might have been ridin’ with her, but I was pretty sure Jesus didn’t smoke and that Jesus wouldn’t like it if Ms. Dexter smoked.  An insurance salesman came to my house one time, and he couldn’t stop smokin’.  I kept lookin’ sideways at Ms. Dexter and wonderin’ if maybe she had let an insurance salesman ride with her.  My grandma says that insurance salesmen are the Devil, and I was kind of scared to be ridin’ in Ms. Dexter’s car right where the Devil had been sittin’.

While we was ridin’, Ms. Dexter asked me what did I think ‘bout maybe havin’ a new mommy someday, and I told her I already had a mommy and she sat beside my bed at night and made sure them monsters didn’t get me.

“Cassidy,” Ms. Dexter said, “how would Jesus feel about you lying?”

Then I asked Ms. Dexter how would Jesus feel ‘bout the Devil ridin’ right there in her car with her and she just kept lookin’ at me like she was mad and would tell my daddy I’d been bad so I got real quiet and didn’t say nothing else till we got to my house.

When I got home, my daddy was sittin’ at the kitchen table lookin’ a little sick.  I kept holdin’ my breath, afraid that Ms. Dexter might tell on me, but she just kept sayin’ stuff to my daddy like, “I’ll fix you something to eat.  Let me stay and clean for you—this place is a pigsty.”

Daddy just shook his head and patted Ms. Dexter’s arm and said, “Thanks for all you do, but we’re okay.”  Then Ms. Dexter just sighed real big and shook her head and left.

After she left me and Daddy sat down to eat Sunday dinner.  Daddy sure did eat a lot to not be feelin’ well.  When I get sick, I cain’t eat nothin’.  We ate peas and pork chops and slices of bread with lots of butter.  As we were eatin’ I kept wonderin’ how come Ms. Dexter kind of looked like those clowns my Aunt Sylvia always gives me for my birthday with all of that blue and red stuff on her face.  So I asked Daddy and he got real quiet.  He had some peas on a fork but the fork stopped just before it reached my daddy’s mouth, and he just gave me that look that my kindergarten teacher sometimes gives me when I won’t be quiet in class.

He said, “Young lady, go to your room and think about what you just said.  Would Jesus have liked what you said?  You can finish your lunch after you’ve thought on it a while.”

So I just got up and walked to my room but my bottom lip was shakin’ because I felt like I was goin’ to cry.  When I got to my room, I just kept staring down at those stupid ol’ white tights that Daddy makes me wear to church.  There was a big hole in them at my knees, and I kept pickin’ it to make it bigger.  I sure did wish Jesus was there.  I kept hopin’ he would walk through my door.  ‘Cause Ms. Dexter told us that in the Bible it says that Jesus don’t want nobody to lie.  And Ms. Dexter said it was in the book of Exit This.  So I went to my dresser to get my Bible, but I cain’t read much so I don’t know what that Bible said but I sure could count them words, but I got tired of sittin’ in my room countin’ words so I took my Bible and opened the door to my room.

I peeped ‘round the corner, and Daddy was talkin’ on the phone in the hall.  I knew he was talkin’ to Grandma, ‘cause she’s the only person he ever calls.  I walked out in the hall and showed him my Bible.

“Daddy?  Find the book of Exit This for me.  ‘Cause Ms. Dexter said in the book of Exit This that we ain’t sposed to lie.  And I won’t lyin’, Daddy.  Ms. Dexter does look like a clown.”

Daddy started to laugh and ruffle my hair.  He told my Grandma what I just said, and I could hear her laughin’ on the phone too.  I won’t sure what they were laughin’ at, but that usually means I’m out of trouble.

“Daddy?  Ms. Dexter wants me to hold a candle and let hot wax run down my hand, and that hurts.  Why can’t I hold my flashlight instead?”

Daddy kept holdin’ the phone to his ear and looked confused.

“What are you talking about, honey?”

“I got to be a little light in the Christmas pageant.  Why can’t I hold a flashlight?”

My Daddy just sighed and rubbed his forehead.  I think that I give him big headaches all the time.  He started talkin’ in the phone to my Grandma.

“Mama, can you call Paula for me and tell her that Cassidy wants to hold a flashlight instead of a candle in the Christmas pageant?  Yes, thanks.  She’s been coming on a little strong lately.  Yeah, it’s been almost a year, and I guess she thinks the mourning should be over.  No, Mama.  I’m not ready yet.  Thanks, again.  Good-bye.”

My daddy hung up the phone real fast before Grandma could finish talkin’.  My grandma can talk on and on forever.  She has the whitest teeth I ever seen.

I knew that “Paula” was Ms. Dexter’s ain’t-sposed-to-call-her-that name.  I got a whoopin’ one Sunday ‘cause my daddy said I don’t never listen.

The next Sunday night, I got to wear a pretty long white robe.  Everybody else was holdin’ those ol’ mean candles, but I got to carry a bright red flashlight like the colors of Christmas.  After we sang ‘bout our lights and the pageant was over, Ms. Dexter came over and started fixin’ my robe ‘cause it had got all wrinkly.  Her perfume made me feel sick and I thought I was goin’ to throw up.

“Ms. Dexter?”

“Yes, sugar?” she asked like she was ‘bout to give me a piece of candy.

“You need to stop wearin’ that stinky perfume.  Daddy was right.  You have been comin’ on too strong lately.”

Ms. Dexter looked like I might have hit her hard on her face.  She kind of screamed a little bit and then she went and found my daddy and I saw them arguing outside.  I went and got in our old red car and waited for Daddy to come drive us home.  When he finally got in, I thought about askin’ him if he needed to go to his room and think about what Jesus would have done ‘cause we ain’t sposed to argue with folks, but he looked like he might get mad at me so I just sat there real quiet.

We didn’t never go back to that church again.  We hain’t never been back to no church again.  But Daddy always makes sure that I gots lots of batteries so that my light for Jesus don’t never go out.

 

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