It seemed to her that the day never would pass.
Mom Beck, rustling around in her best dress ready for church, that afternoon, took pity on the lonesome child.
"Go get yo' best hat, honey," she said, "an' I'll take you with me." It was one of the Little Colonel's greatest pleasures to be allowed to go to the coloured church.
She loved to listen to the singing, and would sit perfectly motionless while the sweet voices blended like the chords of some mighty organ as they sent the old hymns rolling heavenward.

Service had already commenced by the time they took their seats.

Nearly everybody in the congregation was swaying back and forth in time to the mournful melody of "Sinnah, sinnah, where's you boun' ?" One old woman across the aisle began clapping her hands together, and repeated in a singsong tone, "Oh, Lordy! I'm so happy!" "Why, that's just what our parrot says," exclaimed Lloyd, so much surprised that she spoke right out loud.
Mom Beck put her handkerchief over her mouth, and a general smile went around.
After that the child was very quiet until the time came to take the collection.

She always enjoyed this part of the service more than anything else.

Instead of passing baskets around, each person was invited to come forward and lay his offering on the table.
Woolly heads wagged, and many feet kept time to the tune: "Oh! I'se boun' to git to glory.
Hallelujah! Le' me go!" The Little Colonel proudly marched up with Mom Beck's contribution, and then watched the others pass down the aisle.