In observance of National Women’s History Month, I celebrate the unsung heroines of my life who have indelibly left impressions upon me that have shaped the “who” I am evolving into. In my current state of “me”, I have a keen awareness that something in me yearns for the extraordinary; and defies mediocrity even in its most base form. I recall that even as a child, I could not grasp the concept of settling for status quo or for something that would cause me to fall short of the legacy I desire to leave.
Legacy: Now there is a word that often finds its way into my vocabulary; perhaps because my lineage has been traced back to a heritage of those who have paved the way for such a possibility to exist even in my own life. Or perhaps it’s because mere existence is an insult to my birthright, my purpose. I feel the need to stretch past limitations and barriers, and even timelines that are not in compliance to the manuscript that accompanies my life.
Now, getting back to those unsung heroines; Mrs. Annie Bell Smith, my late great grandmother, fondly referred to as ‘Granny’ or ‘Granny Bell’ was a delightful woman, and indeed a worthy heroine! Sometimes, I believe that her hands were on the potter’s wheel (with God’s permission of course) helping to shape me into the woman I am to become - after all, I’m still in the makin’ as the old folks would say. Anyway, Granny had a way of teaching life’s lessons that one doesn’t soon forget. These little treasures were always wrapped up in a story. Like the story of “Pameline”. When Granny told us the story of Pameline it was to let us know that my sister and I were messing up.
Pameline was this ditsy little girl who just couldn’t seem to follow the instructions her mother gave her to go the store. Every time Pameline went to the store to purchase bread, milk or eggs, she always returned with damaged goods and a poor excuse. Poor Pameline just couldn’t understand that you can’t drag eggs home on a string, because they will surely break. Needless to say, the story of Pameline was told in such dramatic tones that would always garnish giggles from my sister and I and leave us asking for more. But rest assured beyond the giggles and the plea for more, we got the point. Granny made sure we did.
Annie Bell Smith was a well to do woman whose husband owned two nightclubs and was a promoter in South Carolina, bringing in all of the great singers of that era. I guess you could say she experienced a lifestyle that would characterize her as upper middle class. You see, owning four homes and two nightclubs was pretty advanced for an African-American family in the early 1940’s.
What I recall most about my grandmother is that she was an extraordinary giver. Her life reflected her love of giving. For many years she worked for the State of South Carolina with handicapped children until she retired. She was always taking someone in, and feeding those who were less fortunate, and she always seemed to be tucking money into someone’s hands. Her memory to me will always be legendary, for she was larger than life, and I celebrate her this month. Her history has been etched on the pages of my heart and will live throughout her lineage. She unleashed the power of giving to me.
My mother, Mrs. Mattie L. McClerklin Mosby is another woman worthy of celebration. Her ancestry has been traced back to Kings and Queens. Before ancestry.com was available, my uncle, an attorney in Washington, did an extensive research on our family’s history and uncovered invaluable information about our heritage. My mother has often been characterized as regal and stately. Her quiet, yet authorative demure leaves no doubt that she is a woman of greatness.
Mom made history in the state of South Carolina as the first African American female to work in the House of Representatives. She received a lot of media publicity and worked closely with the Senate proofing the budget for the State. As significant this accomplishment seemed to be, it is not legacy material. The legacy Mattie L. McClerklin Mosby will pass on to her children is the legacy of extraordinary faith. Perhaps the stories of her life of faith will never be chronicled, but they too are etched on the pages of my heart. Faith to believe the impossible is worthy of celebration.
Yes, I do desire to leave a legacy behind. I have always wanted more than wealth. I want to affect humanity. Is that too much to ask? Am I reaching for too much? I often ask what can I do to change the world, what can I do to leave an inheritance, what can I do to maximize my potential, what can I do to be pleasing unto God, and will my life have mattered, and to what capacity? How will history write the pages of my life, but more importantly how will His – story play out in my life? All of these things require faith and giving. I have inherited both from my mother and Granny Bell. For that I am grateful.
Lastly, to all of the women past and present who I have been so blessed to know and receive from; to those of you who will help tell my story, I celebrate you. I celebrate your strengths, your purpose and our connection. You are extraordinary and exceptional in many ways. So for the month of March, along with my Granny and my mother, you are who I choose to celebrate: Extraordinarily, beautiful you!
© 2009. Carmen A. Gray - All rights reserved.