January 20, Sunday

It is full summer. The sun beats down on Picuí and the dust is everywhere. It sneaks inside the house when I have just cleaned and mopped the floors. It settles on the windowsills. I cover everything in the kitchen with dish-towels to keep the dust off. The flies are sneaky too, they buzz around and get inside when I am not looking. I always have a dish-towel over my shoulder, ready to swat a fly if she gets into the house.

Today we will have lunch at church after the service. Cacilda helped me make a maracujá pudding so we have something to take for the meal; it’s easy to make and delicious. The children line up by the front door and I make sure they all look nice before we head up the road behind Papai.

The main church in town is big and grand, but ours is a simple building that is painted blue. We have lunch in the church after service on special days. Papai is a respected deacon; he was there at the beginning and helped build the church.

I’m not sure how many families are in the church, but they fill the hall. The church has one large room in front and a social room in the back, with a kitchen and long tables for eating. The older church sisters organize things and keep everyone in order for social times. It’s not Christian to talk about other people in unkind ways, but I pay attention and listen as the women talk mean or laugh about people sometimes. I’m just a kid so they don’t notice me paying attention.

“Sister You-know-who, she is having a time with her daughter.”

“Yes, what a disgrace!”

“To think a girl from a good Christian family would sneak off with a man in broad daylight! How old is she, anyway?”

“I’m not sure, maybe fourteen?”

“Her mother must be so ashamed. Has she got her under control now?”

“Yes, I heard the girl is kept at home under lock and key. And I hear the guy left town—or maybe the father took the law into his own hands, I wouldn’t blame him.”

“One thing is for sure, that guy is gone. But a girl like that, if she’ll do it with one, she’ll do it with another.”

“Mercy!”

The sisters busy themselves with putting the food out and everyone lines up and fills their plates, talking and laughing. The food smells delicious and it’s making me hungry. I sit the children at a table and make them plates. Baked chicken, rice and beans, a slice of tomato. I can’t eat until the children are settled, mashing their rice and beans and cutting the chicken into small pieces so they can eat by themselves. Samuel tries to eat with a spoon but he’s so hungry he gives up and uses his hands. He isn’t smiling, just busily chewing and looking around, but I know he is happy. Eating together without talking is a happy time.