Funeral Sermon for Mammy Caroline Barr

Caroline has known to me all my life.
It was my privilege to see her out of hers.
After my father’s death,
to Mammy I came to represent the head of that family
to which she had given a half century of fidelity and devotion.
But the relationship between us never became that of master and servant.
She still remained one of my earliest recollections,
not only as a person,
but as a fountain of authority over my conduct
and of security for my physical welfare,
and of active and constant affection and love.
She was an active and constant percept for decent behaviour.
From her I learned to tell the truth,
to refrain from waste,
to be considerate of the weak and respectful to age,
I saw fidelity to a family which was not hers,
devotion and love for people she had not borne.
She was born in bondage
and with a dark skin and most of her early maturity
she was passed in a dark and tragic time
for the land of her birth.
She went through vicissitudes which she had not caused;
she assumed cares and grieves
which were not even her cares and grieves.
She was paid wages for this,
but pay is still just money.
And she never received very much of that,
so that she never laid up anything of this world’s goods.
Yet she accepted that too, without cavil or calculation or complaint,
so that by that very failure she earned the gratitude
and affection of the family she had given the fidelity and devotion upon,
and gained the grief and regret of the aliens who loved and lost her.
She was born and lived and served,
and died and now is mourned;
if there is a heaven, she has gone there.