Meet Him at the Manger
By Jeaneane Payne, Editor
December 24, 2022, 11:51 p.m.

As I write this, it is Christmas Eve, nearly midnight. I am alone as always. My daughter and son-in-law live in Europe.

On December 15th I turned 75 years old. Like most other people, my life has been filled with twists and turns, ups and down, joys and disappointments. For most of my life, I tried to do things the way I thought they should be done, but many times that method did not work out.

Along the way, I experienced many challenges and often made poor choices. Particularly in the area of finances, my efforts to balance things out were not always successful. My work as a sales executive about 33 years ago required being on the road during the day. Often on payday, my employer's bookkeeper would lock my paycheck in the safe because I was out of the office when she passed the checks out. She would tell me that I would have to wait until Monday when the safe would be reopened. At that time, I had a 5 year old child and no child support. Sometimes funds would dry up before payday, and I would write a check for groceries and other necessities the day before payday. Those checks would bounce. When you have 1 check bounce, it can cause the next check(s) to bounce. That can be a pretty hefty overdraft fee when you're on a fixed income.

Eventually, I started my own newspaper in the Sevier County area. I quickly learned that some advertising clients did not pay their bills. I went to a restaurant to collect my money and was told by the owner that he was going to use the $5,000 he owed me to take his wife to Hawaii. Another client owed me $1,200. When I went to collect, I had our contract in my hand. To avoid paying, he grabbed the contract out of my hand and ripped it up. Other times, clients would write me a check for their advertising, but put a stop payment on it as soon as I walked out the door. Since then, one of the persons ended up in prison for many years for another atrocity, the car dealership owner who ripped up the contract committed suicide, and things occurred to others that are too tragic to mention.

These are only a few stories that caused me financial and legal difficulties. Once you have a check bounce, it creates a landslide of financial problems because of that initial overdraft fee. From there your life can become a landslide.

Many times, business people would take advantage of me because I was a woman. Then the Internet came along, and I started an online business in 1996. No one knew if I was a woman, man, or alien. They didn't know if I was white, black, green, purple, or yellow. There were no opportunities for discrimination. The Internet protected me very well in its initial stages, and my business became successful. I required payment up front and began to prosper.

I have always worked hard. I worked my way through college and am still working full time.

During the last 37 years, I have seen how the justice system works for White people and how differently it works for Black people. I have seen how churches treat people who are different than they are.

My daughter's father was Black. When my church in Knoxville learned about my pregnancy, they excommunicated me and told me not to ever step foot in their church again for any reason whatsoever. Another church took me in and treated me well. After the birth of my child, I moved to Texas and found a good job. I worked hard, strictly on commissions, and made more money for the privately owned Southern Yellow Pages than they had ever seen. I was willing to go into the most dangerous neighborhood in the Dallas area. Business owners were so shocked that I risked my life to go in, they bought full page ads. This was an area of town where even ambulances and the police refused to go into. One day, someone called my employer and told them I had a bi-racial child knowing this would not set well with a Texan. My employer said "If you give that Black baby up for adoption, you can have your job back." They refused to pay me for commissions earned, and I left the office broke and broken.

I wasn't able to pay my upcoming rent. I had to move out of my apartment and put my belongings in storage. One of my neighbors invited my daughter and I to stay with her until I could get back on my feet. When I arrived at her apartment, she wasn't home. We didn't have cell phones back then. I waited in my car hoping she would return soon.

Darkness arrived, and I placed my baby in the back seat of the car so she could sleep. I fell asleep in the front seat. A while later, a bright light shined through my window and navigated throughout my vehicle. A Pinkerton security guard stood outside and called police. The police arrived quickly, and I was taken into custody on suspicion of kidnapping.

They allowed my daughter to go with me; however, it wasn't long until they took her away from me. I was locked up and became very ill. They let me out of the cell and placed me in the intake room. After a couple of hours, I was transported to the Dallas County jail where I had to stand up all night in a room completely filled with other people because there was not room for anyone to sit down. I was told that the police would have to call the Juvenile Court judge in Knoxville to verify that the child was mine, so I had to wait until court began the following morning. Unfortunately, the judge was late arriving the next morning which meant I had to wait several more hours, still standing up. It was late afternoon when an officer approached me and sincerely apologized for what had happened. Someone had called the Knoxville judge who immediately knew who I was and confirmed the child was mine. I was immediately released.

Not having anywhere to go, I called a church in the Dallas area that kindly got us a hotel room for one night to help me get my bearings. I didn't have money for food, so I called Pizza Hut who graciously sent us a pizza.

The next morning, I used what gas was left in my car and drove to First Baptist Church in downtown Dallas to seek help. I was told that they only help families and that my daughter and I were not considered a family. One of the associate pastors gave me $2 to buy gas and told me to go their mission a few blocks away where I would be able to find help. I went to the mission and was offered a seat amongst about 100 other people waiting for assistance. I waited from 10:00 a.m. until 5:00 p.m. At 5:00 p.m. the mission director told me I would have to leave because they were closing. He said he had called the Pat Robertson ministry to get me assistance and was told they only help families. I had to take my daughter and go into the streets.

While at the mission, I met two gentlemen who were Vietnam veterans. They were homeless. I had no money for food or diapers for my baby. They walked us to McDonald's and said they would buy us some food. While they were getting food, I went to the restroom and discovered that you had to deposit 10 cents to enter a stall. I crawled under the door.

We got seated in the restaurant, and the men came over and gave us some food. One of the men said he needed to go to the bank and would be back soon. Of course, I wondered how he could have a bank account if he was homeless. About 45 minutes later, he came back into the restaurant carrying a balloon and diapers. I was overcome with emotion. It was a few minutes later that I learned this man had gone to the blood bank and given his blood so that my daughter could have the things she needed.

The irony was that I had approached probably the most wealthy church in America and was turned away, yet a homeless man was willing to give blood to help someone in worse shape than he was.

We stayed in the restaurant most of the day. At 5 o'clock the men took us to a beautiful, safe park and told me to wait while they found a place for us to stay. About an hour later, they returned and said a women's mission had agreed to let us stay one night. The shelter was strictly for women, no children were allowed. My baby and I were given a small cot to sleep on. She cried a little, and some of the women became very angry and started screaming. The sheets were so dirty they were brown, but I was thankful to be in a safe place. The following morning, the two homeless men were waiting outside the door to help us any way they could. I walked to my car and discovered that someone had busted out a window and stolen the battery.

I asked the men to help me find a pay phone so I could call my former church in Knoxville, First Baptist Church downtown, to see if they could assist. I called the church collect and received immediate care. The pastor called a church he had previously pastored in the Dallas area, and they came to my aid. They brought a car battery and a gas voucher. I contacted a family member who provided enough money to get back to Knoxville.

After arriving in Knoxville, my daughter and I stayed with two elderly ladies for approximately two months until I could get into public housing.

I moved into Christenberry Heights with no furniture. A friend loaned me some of hers that had been in storage. We lived there for 8 months until I saw a drug deal going down outside my window. It took me by surprise. My window was open and I wondered what all the noise was about. I looked outside and saw the action. Being shocked, I quietly said "What in the world?" Apparently, my voice carried further than I realized. They overheard me.

Later that evening, I was sleeping when I heard some cars pull up. I looked out the window and saw two carloads of men get out and approach my vehicle. They were my neighbors and their family members. They slashed my tires and busted out some of my windows and told me to learn to mind my own business. I was absolutely terrified. I didn't have a telephone, but when I heard a car again I went outside. It was another neighbor, and I asked them to call the police. The police arrived and were going to take the neighbors into custody. They had them in the police cars but said they had to let them go because a judge wasn't available. I was too terrified to stay and called someone from my church who picked us up and took us to a safe place.

The neighbor had a young 6 year old son who is now grown. He was recently convicted of murdering his girlfriend and is now serving a life sentence.

My church paid for the car repairs which were about $1,200.00. Soon afterwards I was offered a job in Sevierville. After earning my first two paychecks, I was able to secure an apartment. That was in 1989.

Life began to improve but not without continued struggles of one sort or another. But it did improve gradually over the years.

During all of the episodes I described, I saw many broken people and a broken legal system. I have personally seen how "superior" people treat those who are not just like they are -- white skin trumps skin of color, colored skin is always guilty, banks treat people of color differently, keep the colored skin behind bars so they can't feed or raise their children, blame them for things they haven't done. And it's usually done in the name of Christianity. "Let's preserve our Christian nation." Realtors keep the colored skin people out of prominent neighborhoods. Realtors take advantage of their low-income tenants by not keeping the unit up to code. The rich are consistently oppressing the poor in many ways. Business owners steal from those who provide them with good service by not paying them because they are women, people of color, or not as well known as others.

During the last two years, I have heard more about bringing our nation back to God than ever before. It's the same "gospel" bearers who are oppressing people who shouldn't have been incarcerated in the first place. It's the same "gospel" bearers who are exhibiting tremendous hatred throughout our country because they have made a bad leader their "god". If we truly had the love of Jesus in our hearts, that babe that was born to redeem us, our churches would experience true revival. Our nation could be healed. Exhibiting emotion at a church service does not necessarily mean a church is experiencing revival.

Many people in our country are looking to the wrong savior. It isn't a political figure who can save us.

Aren't we looking down on those who are not just like we are? They wear their hair differently. They don't dress as nicely as we do. They don't believe the same things we believe. Does that mean we are supposed to hate them and try to destroy their lives?

As we celebrate the birth of the baby born to set us ALL free, think on these things. If your life has been in constant turmoil or you're going through a dark time in your life, remember that there is someone who will walk with you through your valleys and rejoice with you on the mountaintop. Have you have done or said something that was harmful to someone else? Do you have a life filled with injustice and disappointments?

This year I received several certificates from Northern Seminary out of Chicago - a Certificate of Ministry, Certificate of Pastoral Leadership, Certificate of Justice & Reconciliation, and others.

My plan is to help bring forth positive changes in our communities, in our justice systems, and in our churches. Hopefully, the Knoxville Daily Sun will be instrumental in bringing forth those changes.

As someone who has experienced a tremendous amount of heartache and disappointments, I want you to know that there is always hope no matter what your circumstances.

All you have to do is meet Him at the manger.