A couple of days later I was back at Aunt Sally’s.  I had brought some groceries for the old woman.  I knocked a long time on the front door, and, getting no answer, I picked my way through the rank growth of weeds and grass surrounding the house and went around to the back door.  It opened into the kitchen, where Aunt Sally and her son were having breakfast.  The room was small and dark and I could hardly see the couple, but Aunt Sally welcomed me.  “Lawd, honey, you come right on in.  I tole John I heard somebody knockin’ at the do’.”

“You been hearin’ things all mornin’,” John spoke up.  He turned to me.  “You must’ve been thinkin’ about mamma just when we started eatin’ breakfast because she asked me did I hear somebody call her.  I tole her the Lawd Jesus is always a-callin’ poor niggers, but she said it sounded like the lady’s voice who was here the other day.  Well I didn’t hear anything and I tole her she mus’ be hearin’ things.”

I’d put the bag of groceries on the table unobtrusively, but Aunt Sally wasn’t one to let such gifts pass unnoticed.  Eagerly she tore the bag open and began pulling out the packages.  “Lawd bless you, chile, and He sho will bless you!  I feels rich seein’ what you brought me.  Jest look at this—­Lawdy mercy!—­rolls, butter, milk, balogny...!  Oh, this balogny, jest looky there!  You must a knowed what I wanted!” She was stuffing it in her mouth as she talked.  “And these aigs...!  Honey, you knows God is goin’ to bless you and let you live long.  Ah’se goin’ to cook one at a time.  And Ah sho been wantin’ some milk.  Ah’se gonna cook me a hoecake rat now.”

She went about putting the things in little cans and placing them on shelves or in the dilapidated little cupboard that stood in a corner.  I sat down near the door and listened while she rambled on.

“Ah used to say young people didn’t care bout ole folks but Ah is takin’ that back now.  Ah jest tole my son the other day that its turned round, the young folks thinks of the ole and tries to help ’em and the ole folks don’t try to think of each other; some of them, they is too mean.  Ah can’t understand it; Ah jest know I heard you call me when Ah started to eat, and tole my son so.  Had you been to the do’ befo’?” She talked on not waiting for a reply.  “Ah sho did enjoy the victuals you sent day befo’ yistidy.  They send me surplus food frum the gove’nment but Ah don’t like what they send.  The skim milk gripes me and Ah don’t like that yellow meal.  A friend brought me some white meal t’other day.  And that wheat cereal they send!  Ah eats it with water when Ah don’t have milk and Ah don’t like it but when you don’t have nothin’ else you got to eat what you have.  They send me 75c ever two weeks but that don’t go very fur.  Ah ain’t complainin’ fur Ah’m thankful fur what Ah git.