HAPPY BIRTHDAY DR. MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR.

When I was a little kid, I was often confused about things.

One thing that confused me was Martin Luther and Martin Luther King, Jr.  I didn't know anything about Martin Luther, the Catholic heretic and Protestant reformer, for whom both Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and his father were named for.

I didn't know about the Protestant Reformation.  I knew there were different religions, but not why, or how.

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., I knew a lot about. For one thing, his birthday was the day before mine, and back when I was in grade school we had the day of the holiday off- whether it was a Monday or not.  (So when it fell on Saturday or Sunday we did not get any extra days off school.)

In all my classes from kindergarten we learned a lot about him and the things he had done, every year in January around my birthday and his.

One year on Christmas Eve, when I was about 7 or 8, we were decorating the Christmas tree and my grandmother and my mother and the other adults somehow fell to discussing Christmas traditions, and the story of Martin Luther and the first Christmas tree.

The story was also denounced as probably not truthful, per my grandmother and others, as Christmas trees had existed before as leftover from Pagan Yule traditions.

As these discussions continued my mind was working out what I knew about the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., his age, and my best guess at the oldest his father could have been.

(At this point my mind had already developed sufficiently that when conundrums like this presented themselves I would often have to sort them: The age of the father was the most important, why he did not have the name "King" attached was also a problem.  But as "king" was also a title I'd determined that to be the second problem to work out.)

Even as a child I trusted only myself,  especially when working out the answers to what I considered to be the vast and unrelenting amount of lies, inconsistencies and half-truths adults told children.

I had learned to ask questions carefully and surreptitiously. Adults often ruined things if you revealed too much too soon, or let on that you know what they were up to.

"Nonny, did you have Christmas trees when you were a child?" We called my grandmother Nonny, and I knew she had been born in 1913.

"Yes, of course," she answered, looking at me curiously.  She pointed to an ornament on the tree.  "That ornament came from *my* grandmother," she told me.

There were a lot of people over, and it was busy, and everyone needed my grandmother to do something.  She did not have a chance to ask me why I had asked her such a curious question.

I went to find my mother and I asked her the next question.

"Mom, was Martin Luther senior a King too?"

"A King?" She answered distractedly.  She was busy in the kitchen, making her famous egg nog from scratch. "No, honey I think he was a type of minister though.  A Lutheran Bishop, I think. We can get you a book at church."

The Church library would be open when we went to the late Christmas Eve service.  That year was to be my first time to go to church late, with the adults, and I was looking forward to it.  That a book would also be included in the adventure was just another bonus.

Of course, the book on Martin Luther made matters worse.  There were no pictures, except at the front. He'd lived ages ago.  He was white.  He was from Germany.  I was completely perplexed and at a loss as how to proceed the investigation.

The Christmas holidays and then the always too sudden return to school provided me with enough distractions that I didn't begin my line of questioning again until the January 15th holiday.

I had become impatient to know the answers to the mystery, and the impatience overruled both the fear that some valuable secret would be taken from me at the moment of discovery.  Taken and used for adult purposes, as was often the case.

"Nonny, you had Christmas trees in your house when you were little?"  I tried again.

"Yes, of course.  My mother always decorated so beautifully.  I remember one year..."  She began a story I had heard many times before, about my grandmother's younger sister, who I might have known as my great-aunt if she had not died as child.

"And your grandmother had Christmas trees?" I cut her off, impatiently.

"Yes?"  She had stopped moving, which was rare for my grandmother. She was always moving and busy, even sitting down she would sort papers or sew or knit or write letters.  She was only still when she slept or when she listened to her Mahalia Jackson records.

Or when she was looking at me with her curious eagle eyes.  Probably wondering if I had broken an ornament or heirloom.

"Then how did Martin Luther Kings' father invent them? And how come no one ever says he is a King, too? Was it because he was white?"

I'd looked it up, Martin Luther King had been born only 14 years before my grandmother. And he'd born a King, too.  It was just a last name, not a title.  Had his son perhaps so eclipsed him? Why was that last name not used when referring to him?

I had asked a number of my black classmates about Martin Luther and/or Martin Luther King senior, and about the Christmas tree.  No one had ever heard the Christmas tree story, although one girl thought maybe it was because he was a black man, and not white or German.

As a child I found race, culture and colour completely confusing.  In fact, my experiences trying to understand these things were one of the chief reasons I had learned to be cautious about how I asked adults questions.  Adults were often infuriatingly evasive, and would refuse to answer direct questions.

My grandmother stared at me, uncomprehendingly, an expression I'd seen often enough, and would continue to see frequently throughout the rest of her life.

Finally she smiled.  Then she laughed.

She turned back to her baking, a cake that was to be for my birthday dinner the next day.

"Martin Luther was a German man that lived a long time ago, and he believed that there needed to be more than one church.  And that people should be able to talk to God, instead of having the priests talk to God for the people.  So he wrote down what he thought and nailed it to the church doors, and that started a big fight."

"Was he good or bad?"  Like every story my grandmother told, they way she said the words and the sound of her voice always drew me in. I had temporarily forgotten my line of questioning.

And I always loved to watch the careful and measured way she did things, especially cooking, baking and candy-making, her specialty.  She was mesmerizing to observe.

She always did things perfectly.  Everything always looked picture perfect and neat: her apron tied with a perfect bow, tidying the kitchen as she worked so it was never cluttered or dirty, the cake looking like it had come from a bakery.

"Good for some, not so good for the Catholics," she smiled.  "I am glad he did it."  My grandmother's church was Congregational, although they had recently split from the Puritan side of the church and joined with the very liberal United Church of Christ.  My grandmother did not even believe there was a hell at all, or that it was even possible to be separated from God ever.

God was everywhere. God was part of everything. That was what my grandmother believed.

"But, *Martin Luther* did all those things.  And he is a great hero to many for his beliefs and his courage to stand up for what he believed in.  And so many people have named their children after him. For instance, Martin Luther King Senior was named for Martin Luther, and his son, whose birthday we celebrate today, was named both for his own father, and for Martin Luther the Reformer."

I was already excited about my birthday the next day, but I was even more excited now, because I could explain the mystery to all my friends at school. Relieved of the burden of this great mystery at last, I gave my grandmother a big hug and ran off to play.

So that is what I was doing forty years ago, on this day.

Happy Birthday Rev. Dr. Martin Luther KING, Junior!  Thank you for your wonderful, courageous life and sacrifice and vision!!!!!!! Thank you for your dream!!!!!

Check out this great clip of MLK, Jr speech from UpWorthy: http://youtu.be/HlvEiBRgp2M