I had a dream the other day, that I was in the livingroom of Mary Wilson, the book's author. She served tea and Stella Dora breakfast cookies, as we sat on her couch looking through her family picture album. I've never met Mary's family, so I occasionally asked, "Who is this?" and "Oh, is this you as a baby?" And with each reply, Mary reminisced on the scene in the photo, and cheerfully told me a little bit of her family's history.

This dream occurred while reading Ms. Wilson's book, "Colorless Soul." Told in conversation style and sewn with pictures along the way, the background of Mary's relatives, unfolds the remnants of her past and present. The stories heard as a child about the grandparents she knew, and those who are a mystery, cross stitch through the chapters. We learn how her family mended the frayed edges of racial tension and economic status with their loving support. She seamlessly weaves the small delicate details of the 50s and 60s, which could have easily been taken for granted, into the tapestry of her life. And, thoughts of snow on an old grave embroider the finishing touch.

Mary Wilson transcribes the expressions of a griot into the written word. She should be commended on creatively combining 80+ years of ancestors and events in such a well organized and concise manuscript. Mary displays her black pride in the variety of family hues, from near white, and medium brown to ebony black. I recommend this book for all born in this melting pot called America. Let's not let our dream of unity go to the grave. Let's live in the present as colorless souls.

Reviewed by: Judine Slaughter