Ruby’s Prayers

“Remember, Ruby,” my mother says to me, holding my hand, “the federal marshals and I will be next to you the whole time.” She squeezes my hand, harder this time. “Now let’s go.”

My mother opens the car door. We are greeted by hostile shouts and screams from crowds of white people. My mother and I follow the federal marshals, insults ringing in my ears.

Once inside the school, the noise only gets worse. Mothers run out of the school, pulling their children out of the classrooms. My mother and I wait in the front office all day while this happens. However, we do meet my teacher, Mrs. Henry. She is nice, but I am nervous. I have never been taught by a white person before.

The next day, my mother says she cannot come with me. “Don’t worry, Ruby,” she says to me. “If you need help, just pray.”

I step out of the car with two marshals in front of me and two behind me. The commotion is worse than yesterday. Much worse. People shout and ball fists. They throw rocks. I stare intently at a black doll with crosses for eyes in a coffin closed around a woman’s hand.

I am surrounded by angry people. I remember my mother’s words and pray.