Free Letters to Missy Violet by Barbara Hathaway Page A

friends. You know Antonio Rose, always figuring things out. And I do declare, Missy Violet, what Antonio Rose said did set my mind at ease for a while.
Pray for us. Pray for our boy to have patience to wait on the Lord to make things right for the colored people. I didn’t mean to burden you with my problems, I know you have your own worries. But the Bible says, “The fervent prayer of the righteous availeth much.”
Faithfully yours,
Lena Windbush

Little Bennie and Little Maggie
November 19, 1929
Dear Missy Violet,
I am writing this letter for Mama. She wanted to write it herself, but I begged her to let me write it for her so I could get to use my new green writing paper I won in the essay contest. She wants you to know that the last time Papa and the boys went down to your house to lay down straw for the cow and to feed the dog, Mama and I went by Miss Roula’s house. But her daughter had already closed up the house and taken Miss Roula up north. So we went to see little Bennie Sattifield and his mama.
Little Bennie is special because he is the first baby I helped bring into the world. He is all plump and rosy now—not like the first time I saw him. Back then he was all wrinkly and red and squalling his head off! Now he laughs and coos and tries to catch things in the air with his little dimpled hands. I asked Missus Sattifield if I could hold him and she sat him on my lap. He was so heavy. I think he is heavier than my baby sister, Cleo, though Cleo is older.
It felt good holding little Bennie, and that big wide grin that hides inside of me came out and spread across my face. Little Bennie kept looking up at me with his pretty round eyes. I wondered if he remembered me. I wondered if he was grateful that I had held him after he was born. Then he hauled off and clocked me in the nose! I could taste blood in my mouth. Missus Sattifield rushed over and took little Bennie, and Mama gave me a handkerchief to wipe my nose with. It felt like my two front teeth were loose.
Miss Sattifield said, “I’m so sorry, child. He a little slaphappy.” Then she said to the baby, “Little Bennie, that wasn’t nice. Why you hit Viney? She’s your friend.” But little Bennie just said, “Gugh!”
By the time we got to Missus Dockery’s house the bleeding had stopped and my two front teeth were not loose. Little Maggie was in the yard playing when we walked up. When she saw us she ran into the house. Her mama came through the screen door and invited us to sit down on the porch. Mama and Missus Dockery chitchatted for a while. Then Mama told Missus Dockery about your letter, that you were concerned about Maggie’s hands.
Missus Dockery called Maggie over and told her to show me and Mama her hands. The little girl was shamefaced at first and hid her hands behind her back. So I said, “Come here, Maggie. I want to show you something.” When she came over I balled up my fists and held them up.
“Did you know that all babies are born with their hands balled into fists like this? But they are supposed to open up in a few months. See, like this.” I spread my fingers. Maggie looked at my hands then looked at her own. “Missy Violet told me that sometimes a baby’s hands won’t open up on their own so you got to help them. You got to let your mama pull them every day, and you got to sleep with them under your head or under your pillow. You remember how Missy Violet showed you?” And Maggie nodded her head.
“Now show me what you’re going to do,” I said, and Maggie pressed her little crooked hands together like in prayer, then she rested them under her cheek like they were a pillow. “That’s right, Maggie!” I said, and gave her a hug like you do when you talk to her. That felt good, like when I was holding little Bennie, only Maggie didn’t punch me in the nose.
So don’t worry about Maggie and little Bennie—they are