I attended the funeral service of a grand and gracious woman this morning. Alvetta Moore was a charming 68-year-old who was struck down by a fast-growing brain tumor.
At the service, one of the readings was the Beatitudes, that short summation of righteous living. Blessed are the peacemakers...Blessed are the poor in spirit...Blessed are they that suffer persecution for justice' sake.
She was a black woman who grew up in Alabama. That says quite a lot in itself. Surely she was subjected to racial taunts and name-calling, discrimination, and bigotry. Yet, for the 16 years that I knew Alvetta, I never heard a single complaint fall from her lips. She was one of those positive people who sought the good in others.
The congregation was mostly black and elderly and I wondered as they were singing one of those powerful Negro Spirituals: what had they seen and experienced in their years as a black American? What injustices had they suffered? What humiliation had they endured?
Bless you, Alvetta. Rest in peace.