The Istoriaphile’s Corner

It’s hard to write well about miracles.  They blindside you and because they’re so unexpected, it’s hard to frame lead ins for them.  With other stories, the author can add foreshadowing and clues to point the reader in a general direction but miracles come without warning.  Sometimes the miracle is such a surprise, that people refuse to believe it occurred.  I have my share of skepticism but I do believe in miracles and I love when they happen.  That’s probably why I love the book  Their Eyes Were Watching God.  As far as I’m concerned, the story in the book, the story of the book and the story of the woman who wrote it are all walking proofs of providence. Let me start out with the writer, Zora Neale Hurston.  She was one of eight children born to an African-American minister and his wife who lived in Alabama.  She was born with talent, strong will and a brain but luck rarely favored children in poor, black families in the 1890’s.  It did when her father moved his family to Eatonville, Florida, one of the first incorporated, all-black, towns in America.  Zora’s self-confidence grew in a society where a resident’s destiny…