“Those who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy. Those who go out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with them.” – Psalm 126:5-6

 

     Often the hardships of the women at My Cup of Tea are described in these posts. The purpose is not to evoke a guilty response that compels the reader to buy more tea. Instead, the re-telling of these traumas underscores our genuine awe at what these women have overcome.

     There is a difference, though, in simply overcoming tragedy and moving beyond it while striving to also live with joy. Many of the women model this daily as evidenced by how they treat each other, their interactions with customers and volunteers, and by their countenances.

     Cool, for example, wears a smile frequently. When she’s not smiling, it’s because she is concentrating on each brush stroke applied to her latest refinishing job or meticulously edging the grass around the property. L. Cool is usually the first to speak.

 

“Good morning, young man!”

“Good afternoon, young lady!”

     As we’ve said before, L. Cool struggled with addiction, so much so that she gave up custody of her 4-year-old daughter. She put herself in rehab three times before getting clean. That was over twenty years ago. For most of us, these harrowing experiences would breed anger, bitterness, and resentment – a least a little. But if those natural feelings are inside, L. Cool, we’ve never seen them.

     We’ve all heard “it’s the little things,” but at the House that axiom is lived out. Recently, the women shared a chocolate chess pie for dessert. Cheryl loved it and asked for the recipe. The excitement in her voice was palpable when she received the recipe. Only a couple of days later, she had baked two pies for sharing. Her elation at receiving the recipe and baking the pies for her sisters was both obvious and infectious.

     Then there are birthdays at the House. Birthday joy radiates from the kitchen to the production rooms to the front porch and beyond. Everyone celebrates. The honoree is given a clothes pin to attach to her uniform. Reveling in her day, each woman, (and anyone else who happens to come through the house,) puts a $1, $5, $10, or sometimes more in the clothes pin. Yes, there’s cake and singing too, but what is remarkable is that women who have so little materially reach sacrificially into their pockets and shower each other with joy.

     Everything is not always rainbows and roses at the House. If you read this blog, you know that the women are faced with trials almost daily. We’ve experienced more than our share of deaths in the last 6 years. Physical and mental health challenges are ongoing. Pipes burst, cars breakdown, and sometimes the pantry is empty. And yet there is still laughter, celebration, and joy.

     Why?

     Because the My Cup of Tea women understand that when it seems too hard to find joy in this life, they can celebrate God’s promises for the next life.

     On August 20, 2021, The Orange Mound Heritage Association and the Orange Mound Arts Council brought to the attention of our city, and more importantly to the Orange Mound Community, the first names of slaves who had lawfully served on the vast 5000-acre Deaderick Plantation before and during the Civil War (Their sur-names are lost if they had them.)

     In 1832, John G. Deaderick listed in his wealth and inventory, along with wagons and plows, 30 men and women slaves between the ages of 2 and 60. The enormous statue of Confederate officer, likewise a slave owner, in a public park that bore his name, was removed the month the monument for Memphis slaves was erected in Orange Mound.

     A reverent ceremony signaled, for those of us attending, the gratitude and respect for men and women who had been stripped of gratitude and respect. They, the new heroes, likely would have been struck in disbelief had they a notion then that 150 plus years later a small crowd would memorialize them with a noble monument next to crumbling Deaderick head stones within the fenced-in family cemetery.

     These common names, Fillis, Peter, Henry, Jessie, Griffin, Cealey , Mary, Milly, lsaac, Sharlotte, Maddison, Peggy, Frank, Randle, Pascal, Gennie, Manuel, Amy, Sarah, Monroe, Jane, Burrell, Washington, Tom, Martha, Violet, Westley, Julia, Katey, and Duncan were uncommonly lauded in silent testimony of their history of struggle.  The legacy of these 30, rather than built on known, notable accomplishments, is even more cherished as it was birthed in painful subjugation.

     Their actual graves were most likely never marked by more than a rock or stick.  Now, the foundational DNA of Orange Mound’s first residents on a slave -based plantation, has been noted, preserved, and valued. Marking their place, establishes early placemaking for Shelby County and the coordinates of the boundaries of Orange Mound.

     This community has loyal pride in its origins, yet little recorded history exists.  Their story has too many gaps in the storyline. The chronicle is told in pass-down fashion with imagination and pride.  The slaves are among the ancestors.

     Laying to rest with dignity and honor those the long-dead slave owners called property maybe helps to bring healing and a new day. Perhaps the scant history recorded, saves Orange Mound residents from reliving the brutality of slavery known and recorded elsewhere.

     All who have roots here continue to hope for a tree -lined neighborhood reminiscent of the original Orange Mound. Pulling up the stumps of decayed trees across the entire neighborhood is a good place to begin.

“Begin afresh and plant new trees” is in the chorus they sing now.

     Little remains from the first scratch in the dirt of 1889.  The homes were designed on conventional foundations and made of hardwood, but not wood hard enough.  

     A friend of mine has preserved a rusted iron water pipe for the Orange Mound Museum yet to be formalized. She discovered it when new plumbing was installed.  It is a piece of art sculpture to her. A tangible artifact most would see as a reason for a tetanus shot. It is a beautiful thing to the beholder of nostalgic reflections.

     Oral history has been the source for African Americans in Orange Mound and some of the detail has been lost with time. What is known is that the wealth of the Deadrick family was built on the backs of slaves and the thriving community that was the original Orange Mound was built by their descendants through ingenuity and hard work. That Orange Mound is still remembered by a few.

     There are scores of us still living in Memphis who descended from the founding fathers. We must reckon with our past as well. Our ancestors participated in that portion of our nation’s ignominious history.

     On that rainy day in August, I was the one weeping at the cemetery ceremony.  My neighborhood friends were rejoicing in dance and song.  Forgiving the atrocities done against their ancestors is their heart-filled choice. Mine is to apologize for those from whom we descend, seek forgiveness, and resolve to pursue authentic reconciliation.  I, and people like me, must do our part to bridge the current national racial divide.

     Orange Mound is leading courageously once again. There is renewed hope because those who were in the graveyard with me have forgiven us and begun a fresh start.  Redemption defines historic Orange Mound.

There is dignity in work.

Despite the popular narrative, most people desire employment that puts to good use their God-given abilities, skills, and talents and allows them to leverage labor for wages to buy food, pay rent, and provide the basics for their families.

For sure there are those who prefer to reap the benefits earned by others, but our experience has been that those are the minority, not the majority. What is true is that desire and necessity are rarely compatible in Orange Mound.

Even after living lives saturated with profound hardships and disappointments, the women at My Cup of Tea still dream. They dream of owning a business, building a house, providing a college education to their children, or having a real, out-of-town vacation. Realizing those dreams requires resources – connections, training, and, of course, money. They desire these things and to earn the wages to have them. But necessity has something to say about it.

One of the ladies was involved in a car accident last year. For the record, she wasn’t at fault. The tenuously operating vehicle was her lifeline to work and her special needs granddaughter’s school. Thankfully, she wasn’t injured, but the car was totaled. The insurance paid her a paltry sum for the late model, high mileage transport. While not enough to purchase another dubious automobile, the payment was enough to reduce the amount of SNAP (food stamps) she receives. Now, she is faced with the decision to work less so she can adequately feed her family.

In another, more recent incident, one of our employees received a letter stating that the government could not pay her disability benefits for a previous six-month period, because her income from working during those months exceeded the government’s arbitrary threshold. Since the benefits have been paid, she may now owe the government. This employee has a legitimate disability that has been diagnosed by medical professionals on multiple occasions. She cannot sit for long periods, must have frequent breaks, and functions daily with substantial chronic pain. To keep her monthly benefits from a system she paid into throughout much of her life, she is only allowed to make $1260 per month. That’s $15,120 annually. Anything above this amount, the government calls “Substantial Gainful Activity.”

This is where necessity decks desire.

There is no intent to make a political statement. It is simply fact that the sincerest efforts by the My Cup of Tea women, and others like them, to be self-sustaining are stifled by policies birthed out of fear that someone might cheat or get more than we think they deserve. The predictable result is that working poor are caught between the “rock” of necessity and the “hard place” of desire never really getting ahead.

What is left for us to do at My Cup of Tea is to continue to stand in the gap and use our volunteers’ connections, mercy, and grace to tackle the gigantic inequities our Sisters confront daily. We must continue to pay a living wage and strive to increase tea sales. If we can do that, we can achieve the audacious goal of offering full-time work to those who want it. Full-time hours at fair pay opens the door to safe housing, reliable transportation, and quality childcare.

Until policy and opportunity combine for the benefit of people, like the women at My Cup of Tea, dignity will remain a luxury for the working poor.

     Debbie Hert entered Orange Mound, galvanized our mission, and won the fragile hearts of our women of Orange Mound 6 years ago.

     She is a tea expert and had managed My Cup of Tea for the brilliant Mary Beth Bryce who founded the company for profit.  When we purchased MCOT and redefined it as a non-profit and a mission, we were in “deep tea weeds” not knowing producers, blenders, or flavors.  Debbie, a quintessential servant manager, trained us on the basics, and kept the company afloat as we employed women of Orange Mound to build our company’s brand and outreach.

     The mission of MCOT is to embrace, serve, and dream with Orange Mound women and then befriend and speed them on their way to discovering their purpose as mothers, grandmothers, neighbors, entrepreneurs, and employees. Faith in Christ is the foundational precept.  Landing Debbie as the manager-in-chief was a gift of God for us because her love for the Lord is her way of life and witness. She glorifies Him by loving us and guiding us as He guides her. 

     The majority of our employees don’t have a church home, so we have our version of church daily.  Debbie can preach.  Recently, she shared a visual of inspiration from our garden in the backyard.  Sunflowers were in a variety of postures. Several were faced Heavenward, and others were bowed toward the ground. Debbie drew the illustration as a mandate for us to look up at the Father for our dose of hope and joy and assurance, and then explained the flowers that were facing the ground were heavily pollinated and were praying. The prayers of the righteous avail much.  The seeds of our prayers would bear fruit in time. Debbie then took us out to see the garden that had given her the visual and spirit-filled illustration.

    Our times are so very heavy. There is a pall over our city, our country and our world. Most of our ladies are unaware of the deep needs beyond our zip code, as personal tragedy is a way of life in Orange Mound.  As I have stated before, all deal with poverty, gun violence, public school disfunction, and co-morbidity issues.  Fires in the West, Afghanistan’s tragedies, and hospital staffing alarms are not top-of-mind.  Debbie alerts us to ensure we participate in the battles of others around us through prayer.  Most of our ladies have deepened their faith in Christ and grown in love for the Bible.  Some are holding a Bible with assurance on how to navigate the promises of God for the first time.  She has a mature command of the Scriptures and a ready answer of a verse for the moment.

     Debbie also plans our production pace, selects new teas, cultivates new resources, and designs our retail spaces. Debbie answers the phone with a lilt in her voice, assures the customer of the quality of our product, and our ability to deliver on time.  She plans the day for us all with our capacity and our potential in mind.  As we are as much ministry as we are a business, we often have enormous gaps in our workforce and regrouping the day’s production rate is imperative.  If we lack hands, Debbie steps up in the production to fill in.  She never eats or sleeps as far as I can see. 

     All of the ladies call her Momma D.  For many, she is who they have missed in an ideal mother who nurtures and encourages her daughters. She epitomizes the virtuous woman of Proverbs 31 - “Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.” (v. 29)

     From sea level to altitudes of about 7,000 feet, the world’s tea – the second most popular drink behind water-is cultivated primarily in Asia. Americans consume twice as much coffee as tea and nearly four times more soft drinks. Knowing these few facts, it may seem odd that tea is the product we chose to sell in an urban community in Memphis, Tennessee. For sure, there are those moments of doubt, but six years into the journey we have learned packaging and selling tea fits us to, well…a T.

The Market vs. The Metaphor

     Assisting women in Orange Mound with employment posed a number of challenges. Many of those most desperately in need of a job lacked authentic job skills. They possessed talents and aptitudes for sure, but any significant employment history or employment-related proficiency was rare. Any opportunity we provided had to include roles consistent to the level of ability and knowledge the women brought with them – at least initially.

     Time was a factor too. Empty cupboards, dark apartments and houses, malfunctioning vehicles and some that didn’t run at all created a heightened sense of urgency. Years or months of training was not practical. Women needed work now.

     The chance to buy Mary Beth Bryce’s tea business met our initial criteria. The business could provide meaningful jobs for women that could be learned in a short timeframe. Mary Beth had established relationships with tea blenders and other reliable vendors. She also had a loyal customer core that would continue to buy tea as long as the quality remained high. Most important, Debbie Hert, who operated the tea business for Mary Beth, agreed to remain as the operations manager.

     It is probably hindsight, but tea is an apropos metaphor for the women who work for My Cup of Tea and the support we hope to provide. Tea in its final form, with the steam and aroma wafting upward from the cup is all at once soothing, elegant, complex, and reassuring. Until you have experienced your first really good cup of tea, you won’t know these things.

     Before it can be harvested, tea (Camellia sinensis) must be grown for three years – a lifetime in agriculture. Commodities like corn and soybeans can be harvested in as little as 60 days. The women at My Cup of Tea did not arrive here because of a single missed utility bill, one-time drug use in their youth, or by witnessing a single act of violence. No, the women find themselves here because of years of abuse, neglect, and poverty.

     But, despite the long growing season, tea leaves are delicate, so delicate they are harvested by hand because the machines break and tear them. This is not to suggest that the women at My Cup of Tea are weak, their emotions and psyches are delicate, but they are strong as evidenced by all they have survived.

     When the tea is finally harvested, it is not ready for market. Most teas are withered. From the website teaepicure.com, withering is controlled by “monitoring humidity, temperature, and air flow over time.” This process allows for the development of aroma and flavor, which is what we all love about tea. Here, we monitor, in a sense, ancillary factors in the lives of the women. Through growing authentic relationships, we listen and learn about how the women struggle, what they fear, and what needs are being unmet, then we adjust.

     After withering, tea is dried to enhance shelf life. The goal is to reduce the moisture content of the leaves to 2-3%. Enhancing shelf-life, that is what we do at My Cup of Tea. Our mission is to help women overcome poverty, improve the quality of their lives, and establish a spiritual and economic foundation to sustain them. We provide jobs, job skills, authentic relationships that become a network, and a faith built on the Bible.

     There are more practical products to sell and arguably more marketable skills to teach. But we believe that we didn’t choose tea, tea chose us.

Jane Hampton Cook is the author of a series of books titled Battlefields and Blessings that recounts stories of the faith of soldiers and military leaders engaged in our nation’s major conflicts. In one passage in her compilation from the Revolutionary War, Cook describes the heroic efforts of Colonel John Trumbull at the Battle of Newport.

Briefly, Trumbull was attempting to warn other regiments who were retreating from the battle that the British were not satisfied with retreat. Their army and German mercenaries were pursuing the Continental Army in hopes of decimating their forces. Trumbull, while riding with great urgency, lost his hat and tied a white handkerchief around his head. The white “flag” made Trumbull an easy target and bullets whizzed past him on all sides as he rode. Despite the “headdress,” Trumbull completed his mission unscathed.

Trumbull marveled, “With this headdress, duty led me to every point where danger was to be found, and I escaped without the slightest injury.”

Cook wrote Trumbull had encountered the “mystery of survival.”

Lately, we have been on a raging battlefield in Orange Mound, as if the trauma and tragedy previously experienced by the women at My Cup of Tea was negligible. One of our dear women received the worst news a parent can hear. Her adult daughter died unexpectedly. The circumstances of her death make it no more or less tragic for her mother who is left wondering how she outlived her child.

The same week, another of our dear sisters lost her biological sister for whom she had been caring. And if that were not enough, in the midst of funeral planning and mourning, two of our sisters and a volunteer were diagnosed with the D variant of COVID-19.

For more than a year through disinfecting, social distancing and masking, our ranks avoided the virus. While other organizations and businesses struggled over the last year, we thrived. Now some of our sisters are hospitalized and others quarantined putting a strain on families and operations at the House.

Why us and why now?

The mystery of survival remains just that – a mystery. In the 6 years we have been in Orange Mound, our My Cup of Tea family has experienced what some would say is more than our share of disappointment, struggle, and tragedy. But we have experienced blessings too.

We have witnessed two women purchase their first homes; others are having their homes repaired and refurnished. Another gained custody of her granddaughter. Everyone has enough food to eat, including a lunch provided by volunteers daily – a fact that was not true when we started. Each of us has a cadre of sisters who pray together, love, and bear one another’s burdens. And the Lord continues to provide new customers and donors that allow to keep supporting Orange Mound women.

Upon completing his mission and realizing how miraculous it was to be alive, Trumbull exclaimed, “I thank thee, Oh thou Most High, for thou hast covered my head in the day of battle!” (Psalm 140:7)

God too has covered our heads in the past, and He will surely bring us through this battle.

     A visibly ravaged and handicapped man with a message board is at the corner of my local grocery store parking lot. His sign says a little about himself and his need: $$$.  Throughout several hours of the day, he boldly approaches stopped cars in traffic, further endangering himself.

     Often the people in cars around me will give something to him, maybe a sandwich, cash, water bottle or a piece of paper with hope and directions to a social service. That kind response is gratifying to the giver and perhaps silences the children in the car who have asked, “Why are we not helping that poor man?”

     I have often asked myself, “What would Jesus do in my driver’s seat?” I can’t stop long enough to build a relationship, nor can I share with him the Gospel through my open car window. “Jesus loves you, this I know” is vapid rhetoric if Jesus in me does not love him in action.

     The parable of the Good Samaritan warns me to not be the priest, who is in a rush and suspicious of the true need, nor the Levite, who looks the other way.

 

Is this poor man my neighbor?

 

Is anyone in need my neighbor?

 

“When we take the time to understand why someone is struggling, we are more able to empathize with them and be of help. When we make snap judgments or assume that we have all the necessary information before we do, we’re likely to only make matters worse.” I read from Jim Dennison’s The Daily Article today.

     Too often I look briefly at the message board and not at the man. I judge him by ignoring him.

     The Good Samaritan in the familiar parable in Luke 10:25-37 covers the naked stranger who has been assaulted. He medicates and binds his wounds, carries him to safety, and pays for his lodgings. There is risk and sacrifice in the Samaritan’s actions.

      Bretta, in Orange Mound, is my neighbor though we live 8 miles apart. She lives in a food desert, and a place of many more neglected needs.  Her ability to rectify the problems in her midst is mostly absent.  She does not want to ask for help. She has no message board.  It has taken me 4 years to build an authentic relationship with her and grasp a better understanding of her need, wants, and what she is willing to let me participate in helping solve.  She is sacrificing pride in allowing me into her home, and she is willing to trust me in bringing others I trust to help bring her home up to code and livability.

      With her permission, I called The Collins Company of Memphis, which has stepped in, assisted, professionally supervised, repaired pipes and wiring, and is addressing structural damages, veneers, and cosmetic needs.  Volunteers she trusts at My Cup of Tea are accumulating any of the missing furniture and appliances she needs to live securely and comfortably.  Very soon, Bretta‘s home will be stable,  and  she will have a beautiful  fresh start to maintain it.

Her story is a chapter in the unwritten book about the women who work for us at the tea company.  They are all lovely images of God, and each is hard-working. Together they are a distinguished and dignified group of single women, single mothers, and grandmothers.  None of them carry a message board, nor do they ask for us to fill in the gaping holes and insufficiencies in their homes. Most rent small, 2- or 3-bedroom, one bath homes for their large families.  They can only afford the meager and dilapidated real estate in Orange Mound. We are on mission and conviction to help all of them eventually be homeowners, but in the meantime we are neighboring with love in action for those we work with daily and consider members of our family. 

I did not know, and most likely you aren’t aware, that those who rent from slumlords are only provided a shell of a home in which to live.    

• All appliances are up to the renter to find and install.
• Grass and tree maintenance is up to the renter.
• Pest (think rats) control is the renter’s problem.
• Urgent needs, such as leaks, weak flooring or broken pipes are typically ignored.
• Broken windowpanes creating more drafts and exposure are not the landlord’s problem.
• Rent is due the first of the month with no excuses.

      Without an oven or a proper refrigerator, all fresh food box donations, purchased meat and produce quickly perish. Without a washer and dryer, purchased and donated clothes are worn until dirty and discarded. Air conditioning is either fresh air through an open window, which is ill-advised in crime-saturated areas, or a window unit, which can easily be dislodged and stolen, if not framed with a cage that is an additional cost and difficult to install.

     I am writing a message board on their behalf.

 

     We are establishing a “HOUSING FUND” for our employees.  You may donate through our website here or send a check to My Cup of Tea. Please designate your contribution for “housing fund” in the "special instructions" area online or in the memo line of your check. You will receive a receipt for your tax records.

     All of the contributions will be used to purchase appliances and shore up the decay in the houses that are rented.  Though the ladies have been patient for years, their living conditions are unacceptable.  They have had no voice or respect to complain. Many of our volunteers and customers have generously helped our 3 homeowners and are inspiring our friends and many employees who rent to do likewise.  As well, some local banks are offering to coach in securing low interest loans for the ladies who are ready to move out and upward toward decent affordable home ownership in Orange Mound.

     If you haven’t discovered a neighbor in need where you live, then we welcome you to join our neighborhood.  The needs are identified and solvable, but they are also great.  

     As Mr. Rogers would say, “won’t you be my neighbor”?

“Others have seen what is and asked why. I have seen what could be and asked why not.”

                                                                                                                -Pablo Picasso

 

The mission of My Cup of Tea has always been about supporting women in the Orange Mound community through job opportunities and authentic cross-cultural relationships. But it has also included doing our part to revitalize this once thriving community.

The resurrection of Orange Mound, or any community struggling with crime, poverty, declining property values and few opportunities for economic mobility, is complex, multi-layered and there is no single strategy that will move the needle. What many community developers and activists agree on, though, is that the arts are essential to revitalizing a community. As a Princeton University working paper put it,

“The arts revitalize neighborhoods and promote economic prosperity. Participation in the arts improves physical and psychological well-being. The arts provide a catalyst for the creation of social capital and the attainment of important community goals.”

Bill Strickland, an activist and founder of the Manchester Craftsmen’s Guild in inner-city Pittsburg argued in an NPR TED Radio Talk that exposure to beauty is critical to community change. He says whether music, painting, sculpting or dance, engaging with beauty on a consistent basis changes vocabularies, behaviors and raises expectations for what is possible for the community to a new level.

                “It turns out we may need beauty to survive, in the same way we need oxygen and water,” says Strickland.

We’re not sure if human beings need beauty in the same way we need water and oxygen, but what we know is that people don’t thrive without it.

Fortunately for Orange Mound, there are passionate, adept organizations and leaders organizing the community and promoting the arts. One of those organizations is the Orange Mound Arts Council (OMAC,) which manages the Orange Mound Gallery.

We have teamed with OMAC, and we are leveraging their network, expertise and energy to create a unique opportunity for Black artists. My Cup of Tea plans to introduce a new Memphis-themed tea to add to our collection, which includes favorites like Bluff City Chai, 901 of A Kind Coconut Almond and Blue Suede Shoes Organic Wild Blueberry. Collaborating with OMAC, we have issued a request for proposals seeking a professional Black artist to design the new box.

The artist’s design and personal biography will be featured on the new box. A fee of $1,000 will be paid for the design and the artist will retain ownership of the original artwork. If you know someone who might be interested, the deadline to submit a portfolio is September 1^st. Please share this link: www.shopmycupoftea.com/proposals.

Beyond this single project, we envision future opportunities to empower and promote Black artists annually. One possibility is to open the request for proposal to amateur artists who would be mentored by professional artists. Whatever the next iteration, emphasizing the beauty and talent that exists in this historic community is essential to support its rebirth.

Shelby County Commissioner Reginald Milton, commenting in the Commercial Appeal on the opening of the Orange Mound Gallery may have said it best.

“Art is a way to express our fears, our passions, our concerns, our anger. Art is unique, it is a gift from God to humans.”

We couldn’t agree more.

The many personal costs of the pandemic have profoundly impacted our friends in Orange Mound. What most of the resourced have experienced is a mere inconvenience comparatively.Reflections on our mission over the past 13 months have shown us that many of our friends and volunteers are being motivated to come to Orange Mound and do what they can to address the many wounds and gaps – some that have arisen from the pandemic and others that have long been there. We have weekly witnessed advis

"As one whom his mother comforts, so I will comfort you." Isaiah 66:13

Mothers' Day is May 9th, and most of us will send flowers or gifts, treat our moms to a special meal, or schedule time for a longer than usual call. Some of us can't wait to honor our moms, while others are approaching the day with trepidation and only participating to avoid the crushing weight of guilt that comes with dodging the day. For others, this will be the first Mothers' Day without their moms, while so many have never experienced a Mothers' Day with their moms because they never knew them.

The House in Orange Mound is a microcosm of the diversity of mother-daughter relationships that exist across our culture. And the ways in which the impending holiday is observed by our team members will run the gambit. Some will spend the entire day celebrating mom. Some will be the ones celebrated. For some, that Sunday will be no different than any other Sunday. Whatever our circumstances, the need for the love and comfort of a mother is inherent. The verse above from the Book of Isaiah even compares the comfort of a mother to the comfort that comes from the Lord.

What is also true is that when it comes to love, nurture, and wisdom we still rely on or maybe never had, we all have gaps in need of bridging. An essential part of the work of My Cup of Tea is meeting each other where we are and supporting one another in ways our mothers can't anymore or never did.
Quintessential mothers are problem-solvers, both big and small. So, at the house, we offer rides when cars break down, emergency funds when personal economies turn down, and our best advice when our sisters are feeling let down. In today's families, mothers are the wage earners and the bookkeepers, so we pay a fair wage and provide training in financial management. In a previous generation, mothers typically taught daughters to sew, cook and garden, so we fill those gaps for those who want to know. The way we most often show our love for each other is in the same way mothers have expressed their love for their children for centuries - we pray. We pray in times of anxiety, fear, and sadness. But we also say "thank you" in our prayers for each other and that God has brought us together. As, Alice Walker, author of The Color Purple said, "Thank you is the best prayer that anyone could say. I say that one a lot. Thank you expresses extreme gratitude, humility, and understanding."

And so there is no confusion, the problem solving and praying is a proverbial two-way street. White women and Black women; affluent and struggling, the bearing of burdens is not limited to a single category.

No matter how we end up observing Mothers' Day or how its recognition makes us feel, it is our Heavenly Father who comforts us who matters most. Every wonderful memory, talent, or skill; every good thing we know about our mothers comes from God. And where our mothers have failed us, because after all, they are human, God will eventually wipe every tear.

Happy Mothers' Day to all of the mothers, grandmothers, the women who are standing in.

She ignored the dripping faucet and avoided the inclination to examine the leak, postponed the call to the plumber, and hoped there would be minor consequences. Delay can be disastrous.  Had she called a professional sooner, she would have discovered the lack of water pressure, of which she had become accustomed, was directly connected to the rusting pipes under the house, and the leaking main to the street. A winter wonder of ice, snow and brutal cold did a “reveal” on her plumbing, which was exorbitantly expensive to repair.

In the world in which we live, there is a quick fix for almost everything.  Duct tape and paper towels are big sellers. The easy way out of a mess is often my first thought. Quick fixes are our default responses along with the notion and fantasy that things are not broken at all.

Much is way past due for repair in Orange Mound.  This historic and proud, oldest and most authentic, neighborhood of yesteryear is only a fading memory.  The original families would not recognize what it has become today.

Homes are passed down through families and often land into the grateful hands of single moms with no experience in home repairs, networks of reputable contractors, or means to address the leaks, decay, and raw wiring.  The mortgages are within reason, but the utility bills are extravagantly high due to poor insulation, holes in the floors, and water escaping along with the heat and the hope that things will ever be corrected.  Our women of great worth and dignity have had to settle for deplorable, collapsing home.  They live in a broken neighborhood in a broken city in a broken country in a broken world.

Jesus came to an identical world populated quite similarly with people like us drowning in economic and social injustice.  He lived and died as the only solution promising that the deplorable, collapsing condition in which we find ourselves would be made new again. He came with a “platinum credit card” for our payment and the private cell phone number of the Creator, Sustainer, and Judge of all the Heavens and Earth.  Jesus didn’t look for the easy way out but accomplished His work with unspeakable, inconceivable suffering so that we can call on His Father God to still our storms, comfort us in the cold of the night, feed our children, and start our cars on a frosty morning.  He has done this and countless things more for us in Orange Mound.  He meets our needs.

Scripture tells us that the poor and oppressed are loved by the Lord and are special to Him. We know the Lord’s eyes are on the women of Orange Mound and that He provides for them. He is the father for the fatherless, and the husband to our single moms. Ask any one of our ladies what He has provided, and you will find that while their budgets are stretched their hearts are full and running over. He inhabits their praises, which resound throughout The House. “Thank you, Lord,” begins every prayer, and the list is long.   Grateful hearts are contagious.

We invite you to come alongside our Father who is our “fixit man.”  Your faith and trust will be impacted.  He was a carpenter and often requests an apprentice to assist Him as He cares for us.  Perhaps you have the tools or extra time.  You will learn much about what has a lifetime warranty and what is expendable.  The bonus for His helpers is immeasurable as they get to work with Him.

   “And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." I Corinthians, 13:13
   
Besieged with seemingly a million shades of red and pink, obnoxious ads screaming at all your senses, "Buy it if you love them," and the lingering queasiness at even the sight of a chocolate candy may have you fed up with talk of "Love." But the love we experienced at My Cup of Tea in 2020 needs to be shared both as an encouragement that the work is truly changing lives and as an acknowledgment of how God continues to demonstrate His love for us.  
     

When COVID's first major blow struck the Memphis community in March, we, like so many others, grappled with whether or not to close and how to keep customers and employees safe. But we knew our associates needed to work and wanted to work, so we implemented the guidelines, secured the PPE, and kept our doors open. Almost a year later, our sales exceeded 2019, despite the pandemic and a sharp decline in retail traffic at our location and the venues that sell our products. And most importantly, not a single member of our team has contracted COVID to date.

Two of our early employees purchased homes in 2020. Cheryl bought her first home and chose to purchase in Orange Mound to do her part to help stabilize and revitalize the community. Deborah purchased her new home just outside the unofficial border of Orange Mound. Both Cheryl and Deborah started with us 5 years ago and have diligently worked to achieve the stability that comes with owning a home. This is a critical part of our mission.
     

God has shown us His love through the blessing of you, not just as customers who buy our tea, though that is central to our ability to serve Orange Mound. In 2020, many of you have volunteered time and expertise. You told others about us across the state and throughout the nation, and we watched support for My Cup of Tea extend to 42 states and the District of Columbia. You shared our social media and associated your good name with our products. And your words of encouragement lifted our spirits.
     

We experienced heartache and disappointment in 2020 too. Two of our employees lost their mothers six weeks apart. Another was involved in a car wreck and was injured. These calamities were on top of the daily variety that many of the women at My Cup of Tea experience as a routine part of life. But what we witnessed was a deepening of the bond among our team members and a commitment to praying for one another more fervently than ever before.
     

My Cup of Tea's cup runs over with faith, hope, and love even when our struggles seem more than we can bear. We don't yet know if 2021 will be better or worse by the standards many of us use to measure. But we know we are loved by you, each other, and our God.  Just as the apostle tells us when everything else fails and disappoints there is faith, hope, and love, but the greatest is love.