Canaan Creek, South Carolina, in the 1950s is a tiny town where the close-knit African-American community is united by long-term friendships and church ties. Bonnie Wilder has lived here, on Blackberry Corner, all her life, and would be content but for her deep desire to have a child. She and her husband Naz cannot conceive, and he refuses to adopt. Even the support of her outrageous best friend Thora—to whom Bonnie tells everything—can’t help fill the emptiness inside her.
Then Naz finds a blanketed infant on the banks of Canaan Creek, and suddenly Bonnie’s life is transformed. She has found her calling. Together with Thora and the rest of the hilarious, tough, and all-too-human women from her church group, Bonnie creates an underground railroad for unwanted babies. But one of these precious gifts will come back to haunt her: a deception begun in good faith comes full circle, ultimately forcing Bonnie to find the courage to confront a difficult truth at the center of her own life.
Filled with compassion, humor, and tenacity in the face of almost insurmountable odds, here is a rich, inspiring tale of friendship and family, sisterhood and mother love…and of finding grace where you least expect it.
From the Hardcover edition.
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|Title of eBook: The Sisterhood of Blackberry Corner|
|Release Date: 07-31-2007|
|Allowed Countries (hover)|
|Publisher: Random House Publishing Group|
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|Parent title||The Sisterhood of...|
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The Sisterhood of Blackberry Corner
Canaan Creek, 1985
From the back porch, Bonnie watched Thora Dean in the flowery bramble behind the house. In a wide straw hat, Thora plucked blackberries, each the size of a silver dollar, and set them in her basket. Over the years, the bramble had become one of Thora's favorite places. At the height of the season, the area was peaceful, fragrant, and the prickly shrubs that extended well into the woods were overcome with plump, dark berries.
"Thora," Bonnie called. "I'm fixin' to set breakfast on the table."
"I'll be along," she yelled back.
Bonnie could smell the impending rain. Like most quick showers during a South Carolina summer, the coming storm might be just enough to cool the day off. Bonnie entered the house and the screen door slapped shut behind her. She used a moist paper towel, tucked in the pocket of her housedress, to dab beads of sweat from her face. Sometimes she couldn't tell if it was the actual heat that made her stop and take a breath, or her own "private summer." Perhaps a bit of both. She lifted a platter of pancakes from the stove and lay it on the table, set for two. Then Bonnie glanced at the wall clock above the sink. She decided to place an extra plate and coffee cup. Most mornings, Tally, the mailman, stopped in for a quick cup before he ended his run.
"Thora," Bonnie yelled out of the screen door.
"Damn it to hell," Thora hollered as she made her way across the back lawn. "I say I'm on my way, then I'm on my way!" She hooked the basket of berries on her forearm and took the porch steps one at a time. Her large chest, ...