When Daddy Sharpe hear this, him laugh out loud and say, ‘Amen, brother, amen. Let us rise.’

With much help from the brothers beside him, the old man rise up and shout, ‘All praise to Daddy! All praise to the Lawd!’

Then that old organ start to wheeze into life and the sister them start to sing and the place start to shake with all the clapping and jumping and swaying of bodies. Finally the hymn come to an end and we all settle back down on the benches, breathing hard. Waiting, waiting with longing, for the next sermon to begin.

When I first heard Daddy Sharpe preach all those seasons ago, in the little white church up there on the hill, I was very young, very foolish. Only thought bout meself and all the little wrongs that been done to me. I didn’t understand the meaning of the words pouring out of him mouth. Plenty word them. Words that left me slack-mouthed in awe. He planted questions I didn’t even know I had, and is only now I can start to answer.

Him also seem to have a way with the ladies. Listen to them little hurts and afflictions, calm them right down. Is why all the church sisters fight hard to be part of the choir, just to be a little closer to all that energy pouring out through him skin. And him not much taller than me, not much bigger. Only bout five foot six. Have a broad, high forehead, a wiry frame. But is him eyes that get you. They brown with flecks of gold, that flash and shine like the peenie wallies that flit bout at night, branding you with the honesty of what him saying.

And he carry himself like a free man, not like a slave. Stand up tall, straight. Don’t cower before him massa. Samuel Sharpe Esquire, a lawyer everybody say is plenty smart. He teach Daddy how to read and write from when him a boy, make it easy for him to move up through the church. Read the news papers, learn bout what is happening in the Mother Country. And after him read, then him report back to us, talk bout the secrets behind the words. What them really mean.

‘I bring good tidings.’

‘Praise the Lawd!’

‘News from cross the seas,’ one slave say, holding up a newspaper.

‘Tell us the news, Daddy. Tell us the news.’

‘Our Christian brothers and sisters across the water, over in the Mother Country, want us to know we are not forgotten.’

‘Not forgotten.’

‘They hear our lamentations and take pity on our plight.’

‘Praise the Lawd!’

‘They are fighting.’

‘Fighting!’

‘Fighting for all of us.’

‘The Lawd be praised!’

‘Even the great king himself has come to understand the evils that have beset this little island and forced us into servitude.’

‘Servitude no longer!’

‘He is about to pass laws that will bring about our salvation.’