Page 53 - The Mending Season

to us. The after-church time was like weekend mornings in the township. People used it to bring each other up to date about the goings-on in their lives. Having lived next door to Mma Motsei, I had thought that church-goers spoke about Christ, heaven and hell all the time. But these people only commented on each others clothing, shared gossip and even invited each other to their houses for the late afternoon. I did not hear anyone mention the sermon.“Catholics are not like Bazalwane, the reborns. They go to church for different reasons,” my mother told me. It also seemed like they all belonged to one specific group ofpeople. They were all professionals or businesswomen and men. I could see that someone like Mma Motsei, who lived a much less extravagant life, would not fit in here.I wondered if people had paid so little attention to us because we were clearly not wealthy. Admittedly, a few people in front ofus did turn around and shake our hands when we got to the “Peace be with you” part of the service. When we had Mass in school I learnt that this was routine in every Catholic church service.As we were returning home, I saw Mma Motsei knitting on her stoep. The aunts greeted her and I made sure that I held up the Bible in my hand and waved to her with it. She looked at us for longer than she usually did, her mouth slightly open.The sisters debatedfor longer than necessary about whether or not to send Tshidiso topre-school. Mabatho held onto her and refused to let hergo, although Malebone thought it might do them good to show the neighbours that they could let their child out into the world. She was notgoing back to work and they were living on the earnings o fMabatho and Malesedi.53