Good Will To All

By Jimmy Reed —— Bio and Archives February 3, 2022

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That Christmas Eve, my boyhood best friend and mentor Jaybird leaned on his porch rail, looking across Mississippi Delta cotton fields in which he had toiled since he was a boy. In moon-blanched stillness, the fields were taking a well-earned winter rest. The old black man had seen good cotton years and bad, but few like this one. Rainfall came, plenteous and timely; sunny summer days were long, hot and humid. Cotton’s green blood, chlorophyll, raced in photosynthetic delirium from sun-absorbing leaves to roots, stalks, and fruit, loading plants with bulging bolls that produced one of the biggest yields ever.

In the cold, clear winter night, Jaybird looked up at a shimmering moon, surrounded by Heaven’s infinite hosts

As always, I went to Jaybird’s home on Christmas Eve, knowing he had placed a present under the tree for me. We children laughed while jostling one gift after another, speculating about their contents. The fireplace roared, stockings were hung, lights spangled the tree, and good smells wafted from the kitchen. Everyone was home for the holidays. Savoring this moment of peace and happiness, the old plowman strolled to the barn to check on his livestock. With its tin roof and thick cypress siding, the building was as snug and weatherproof as ever. A rush of pride lifted his heart when he saw the great, heaping mound of warm, white cotton stored in the barn. Just the sight of it made him marvel again at the magnitude of the year’s bountiful harvest. Satisfied that all was well, he switched off the light, closed the gate, and turned toward home. In the cold, clear winter night, Jaybird looked up at a shimmering moon, surrounded by Heaven’s infinite hosts. Then he stopped. That one big star — was it there last night? Had it always been there? Surely he would have noticed its glorious brightness, the way it seemed fixed directly above the good soil beneath his feet — the place he had always known as home. He struggled to draw his eyes from it.

In his warm, snug bed that night, surrounded by the whole family under one roof, Jaybird drifted off to sleep

Entering the yard, Jaybird saw a young couple on the porch, and said, “Greetings, folks, and Merry Christmas to you. Noticing the woman’s bulging midsection, he knew her time was near. The man spoke. “Although your home seems full, can you provide us shelter for the night?”

 “Well, a huge pile of warm cotton is stored in the barn, and with all those animals giving off body heat, you should be able to pass the night in reasonable comfort,” Jaybird answered. Thanking him, the couple moved off into the dark. We children volunteered to take them food, blankets, and gifts — an example of Christmas spirit at its best, our wise patriarch thought. 

 In his warm, snug bed that night, surrounded by the whole family under one roof, Jaybird drifted off to sleep, thinking of the strangers. Well before dawn, he dressed and headed for the barn to check on them. 

The wayfarers were gone, but they left a thank-you note attached to the blanket. Signed by Mary, Joe and newborn son Christian, it read: Good will to all.