Every April in Jackson, people from all over the area gather together by volunteering to contribute to the annual event “Month of Miracles.” Month of Miracles is a program started by Mayor Jerry Gist to give volunteers the opportunity to be connected to a service project that meets with their individual passions and interests. There are opportunities to help by painting, gardening, photography, and cleaning to just name a few.
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Upbeat music pounded against the walls and colorful lights flashed as we (Kimberly and Melissa) found ourselves on a dance floor. People of all ages and various ethnicities surrounded us as we all did dance motions to the best of our abilities. Women in bright traditional Indie dress flashed smiles as their friends joined the circle. A small boy laughed as he bounded from one side of the stage to the other and dodged between peoples’ legs.
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Tranquil excitement, an exotic assortment of colors, and upbeat music greets my senses as I walk through downtown Jackson. I can't make out the words of the deep melody that I hear, but it reminds me of the Turkish music so dear to my heart. Walking through the streets of East Main and Highland, I feel more like I am back in Mexico City or Istanbul rather than West Tennessee.
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When I was five or six years old, I attended a Vacation Bible School at a Baptist church somewhere on the south side of Jackson. I can’t remember the name of the church now, only that on the last afternoon every boy and girl, ages five to nine, were packed into a multi-purpose room (what Baptists might call a “fellowship hall”), and a man or woman told us that we needed to be saved. I don’t ever remember any name of the devil being used . . . no Satan, Lucifer, or Beelzebub.
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