My mother came down from the mountains of West Virginia after finishing the ninth grade. Where she lived, Black children could go no further in school. But Mama wanted an education, and she was determined to get one.
So she came to Charleston, the capital city of West Virginia, hoping to continue her education. She stayed at the Mattie V. Lee Home, a Christian home for young women. Soon she found employment with a well-to-do Black family. In exchange for helping to clean their home and care for their five daughters, Mama received room and board—and the opportunity to finish school.
And finish she did.
Mama graduated from Garnet High School number one in her class, magna cum laude.
You would think that a young woman that intelligent and determined would have had wonderful opportunities waiting for her. But Mama lived during segregation and Jim Crow, only one generation removed from slavery. Her own father had been born into slavery.
Despite her education and intelligence, Mama was unable to find work that reflected her abilities. Eventually, she became a domestic worker for a wealthy white family, where she worked for twenty-five years.
She helped raise their children. She cleaned their home, scrubbed their floors, washed, ironed and cooked.
And she did it for five dollars a day.
In 1965, Mama asked them for a raise.
They said no.
Yet there was something those difficult years could never take away from Mama.
Her faith.
Mama loved Jesus. She sang about Him. She prayed. She trusted God. Some of the songs I remember her singing were “Precious Lord, Take My Hand,” “Just a Closer Walk with Thee,” and “Were You There.”
Through disappointment, discrimination, hard work and sacrifice, Mama kept her faith.
And she had another quality that I came to appreciate even more as I grew older: wisdom.
When Mama became ill and we brought her North, I had to go back and close out her bank accounts. What I discovered astonished me.
Mama had saved more than $10,000 in just one account.
This little woman who had earned only five dollars a day had managed to save thousands of dollars.
I remembered asking her once about saving money. Mama told me something I never forgot:
“For every dollar I made, I put fifty cents away.”
That was Mama.
She knew how to take a little and make something out of it. She knew how to wait. She knew how to sacrifice. She knew how to endure.
But most of all, she knew where her strength came from.
As her daughter, I had the privilege of watching this remarkable woman throughout my life. I witnessed her patience, her wisdom, her quiet strength, and the depth of her faith.
I understand her better today than I did as a child.
And perhaps that is one reason I wrote this song.
“Mama Sang About Jesus” isn't simply a song. It is my remembrance of a woman whose life taught me what faith looks like when faith has to carry you through.
She was my mother.
And Mama sang about Jesus. ❤️