More Than Just Tea

Each of our Orange Mound ladies carries a profound story marked by trauma and abuse. These remarkable women have endured unimaginable hardships—too many, they would whisper, to fully remember or desire to articulate.

For them, the act of forgiving is not just a choice; it is an urgent necessity. A Black single mother navigating the harsh realities of poverty must summon extraordinary strength to move forward and reclaim her life. In a world where her voice often goes unheard and her struggles remain unacknowledged, we strive to be advocates, determined to lift them up, validate their experience, and offer resources. Together, we link arms to pursue their redemption and recovery. We have discovered that resilience is remarkably acquired by a wise woman when she is faced with a multitude of injustices.

One of our most resilient employees continues to rise above her past, holding onto her faith that the future will be brighter. At just 12 years old, she was raped by her uncle, and instead of finding support, her mother blamed her, scorned her, and even tried to force a miscarriage.

My friend was assigned all of the cooking and cleaning chores and the daily care of her siblings, yet she maintained her education.  She discovered a talent but was never encouraged to develop a trade. She married, suffered abuse, was abandoned, and divorced. She suffered physically and psychologically, without medical guidance, and bore the scars and wounds of a battered woman. She prevailed.

To borrow the words from a song that is on repeat in my mind: “No matter the wounds, no matter the bruises, no matter the scars, no matter the causes, let me introduce you to amazing grace, for the Cross has made, yes, the Cross has made her flawless."  She refuses to succumb. She rises, resets, and resumes the course.

Her narrative of valor has continued for decades. She honors, nurses, and weeps for her mother, who has dementia. She has nursed, served, prayed with, and buried two brothers without help from any of her other siblings. She starves her own need to complain about her family and fills her afternoons feeding the needy and strangers she passes on her way home.            

 Whenever I am mistakenly lauded for my efforts over the past 14 years to love and encourage the more than 100 women who have worked at My Cup of Tea, I feel not humbled, but embarrassed. These women have shown me the qualities essential for a life filled with faith and peace.  They embody courage, resilience, and a deep capacity for forgiveness towards those who have let them down.  I am the one who has learned the invaluable life skill of unconditional love from them, not the reverse. 

On the heels of the pandemic, we were searching for a way to be more involved with the Orange Mound neighborhood, and at the same time, attract more people to our work and products. The idea that bloomed was to feature the art of a professional Black artist on the front of a limited-edition tea box.

The project would allow us to collaborate with a neighborhood organization, the Orange Mound Arts Council (OMAC). If successful, we would draw attention not only to the chosen artist, but also to the rich cultural history of Orange Mound. And, we would raise the public profile of My Cup of Tea and our products, which allow us to employ women from the community.

Five years later, the “art box,” as we like to call it, is one of our most popular items, an anticipated holiday gift, and a positive source of media coverage for the artist and us. As we prepare to unveil this year’s art, we are reminded that the gift of art, the stimulation of our senses, and the way it makes us feel come from a creative and compassionate God.

In fact, in the very first verse of the Bible, we are told, “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.” (Gen. 1:1) One only needs to look to the clear sky in the dark of night or across the horizon at a Memphis sunset to stand in awe of the beauty.

Then, in Exodus 35, we learn of the “craftsmanship” and “artistic designs” to be used with gold, silver, bronze, stone cutting, and wood carving for the tabernacle.

And in I Kings and II Chronicles, we read the accounts of the building of Solomon’s palace and the Temple. We find Solomon requisitioning cherubim, palm trees, and open flowers to be carved of olive wood and overlaid with gold. Inside the temple, there are the sea, lattices, pomegranates, wreaths, oxen, and more cast in bronze.

Not only is God the giver of the tangible art – what we can see, hear, and touch – He is also the one who gives the gift of creativity and artistry.

Also in Exodus 35, we learn that before constructing the tabernacle, God chose and equipped the people who would fashion it.

“…and he has filled him with the Spirit of God, with skill, with intelligence, with knowledge, and with all craftsmanship, to devise artistic designs, to work in gold and silver and bronze, in cutting stones for setting, and in carving wood, for work in every skilled craft.”

And James I:17 tells us that “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of Lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.”

Of course, we know that when it comes to artistic ability, some of us are more gifted than others. We have been blessed over the past four years with the innate and inspiring abilities of Andre Miller, Danny Broadway, Darlene Newman, and Mosal Morszart who envisioned the story of Memphis, Orange Mound, and My Cup of Tea in their own unique ways and transferred them to our tiny tea box canvas. This year, we will experience the giftedness of artist Cheryiah Sunshine.

Cheryiah is the second woman to be chosen for the art box, and she is the youngest artist at only 25 years old. Cheryiah was selected from among the largest number of submissions in the five years of the contest. Unlike the previous winners who work with similar materials, Cheryiah creates with materials as diverse as acrylic paints, block printing ink, mixed media paper, duct tape, Washi tape, and even coffee. We are elated to share her work with you and feature it on our art box.

Finally, this 5^th year of the art box includes our first sponsor, Regions Bank. The generous donation covers the cost of the contest, the artist award, the limited-edition tea, and the printing of the box. In other words, one hundred percent of every box sold will go to the wages of the My Cup of Tea ladies. We are so thankful for their support.

If you can, please join us for the unveiling on Wednesday, October 22, at 10 am at My Cup of Tea. If you cannot attend, please consider purchasing this box of tea with Cheryiah’s art. It will be on sale at the unveiling and online later that day.

         Four months ago, I sprinkled a few handfuls of a hybrid sunflower seed in our freshly constructed most Northern garden box at The House. We had received nourishing, rich dirt from Memphis City Beautiful, and we added compost from my decomposed pile of used tea leaves. The garden box was ingeniously irrigated by our long-time contractor friend, Dwayne Jones’ crew, and the sun exposure was the suggested maximum on the tiny seed packet. The conditions were perfect for sunflowers to flourish, and we would not need to water or weed.

         The miracle of burying a seed that generates a small plant, unfurls a flower, and brings forth many seeds is repeated throughout the world every spring. The Parable of the Sower cautions that not all the seeds will mature, depending on the conditions. Apparently, our setting for a few of the seeds was superb.

         While we delighted in our familiar annual plantings of tomatoes, peppers, corn, and lima beans, we marveled over the fast-emerging nubs of the sunflowers that outpaced everything and began to shade the eggplants in box #2.  Within the short month of June, we saw more than we had imagined possible. We had a forest of very thick-leaved, twelve-inch-diameter sunflower trees with flowers the size of large pizzas. They had grown too tall for us to clip and bring in for decoration, and if we had a ladder to do so, there wasn’t a vase that could support a flower unless we repurposed a Home Depot bucket.  

         Did I mention above that the seeds were called Skyscrapers?

         They grew just short of the power lines on Semmes, and the utility workmen preparing for the fiber-optic cables to come stared menacingly at them and us.

         Last week in preparation for planting in the fall, Sandy, a regular volunteer for years, and I brought our personal chainsaws and began our untapped lumberjack roles of cutting down the forest in Box # 1.  We prevailed and then attacked the 15-pound root balls under each one with the same dedication.

         The 20 actual sunflowers clipped from the felled trees weighed between 3 and 6 pounds each.  My pleasure has evolved into harvesting the seeds from the cut and dried flowers and planning how we will plant sunflowers in all the vacant lots in Orange Mound.  I am not overstating that I have plucked at least two thousand Skyscraper seeds from only five of the flowers.

         I grew up singing about Johnny Appleseed, and I only need to change one word to make it fit. It begins:

“Oh! The Lord’s been good to me/and so I thank the Lord/for giving me the things I need/ the sun and the rain and the sunflower seed/Oh! The Lord’s been good to me.”

A friend challenged me to write a story, and I thought the valiant seed deserved a poem. Read below.

Sunflowers rise, bright, saucy, and bold.

Promises of Summer, as their potential unfolds.

From one empowered kernel, the Skyscraper stands, 

Fifteen feet high, reaching upward like hands. 

Summer ore, seeds gathered, rest through fall and frost, 

In spring’s warm embrace, they awaken, not lost. 

With sun and with water, the cycle renews, 

From one tiny seedling, a forest ensues. 

Tall as trees, golden petals debut to display

Beauty and joy in their vibrant parade. 

Though grass will wither, and flowers will fade, 

God’s Word endures, a foundation well laid. 

Life and truth in each season's measured return,

In the heart of a seed, endless lessons we learn.

Let us marvel at Creation’s miraculous design,

In His Garden of Faith, the Holy Spirit aligns.