She dresses up as Aunt Lydia (as in Lydia from Thyatira, from the book of Acts) in a modest purple robe (like the kind Lydia might have sold) inside her Christian book store, The Bible Barn. She tells stories about giants and whales and fiery furnaces. On Feb. 7, five little kids - some she knew, some she didn't - marched around the store and blew kazoos and sucked on Dum Dums and the walls of Jericho came down.
"What do you think the name of this city is?" she asks her audience. "Do you think it's called Lubbock?"
Noooo.
"Do you think it's called Dallas?"
Noooo.
"No, not Dallas. It's ... called ... Jerrrrrichooo. Can you say that? One, two, three: Jerrrricchooo."
Monty, Huffman's husband, watches and smiles.
"She's been a Bible class teacher all her life," says Monty, 52, a minister at Central Lubbock Church of Christ, where the two attend. "She's probably been teaching Bible class since she was a pre-teenager. She's had 40 years of experience. It's something on her heart, and a way to use her gifts for something good."
The couple opened The Bible Barn in September 2007. Aunt Lydia was born two months later.
"I just love kids and just wanted to have something where they could come," Melody says of her alter ego and the weekly story time she calls Matthew's Korner, named in honor of her son. "I thought it would be something to help bring people in, something different. It's little. It's been slow. Sometimes kids are here; sometimes they're not, you know. But I'm always ready."
Ready or not
On Aug. 9, 1991, she wasn't ready. Parents never are, even when they know God holds the future and they'll all meet again one day. But little Matthew, 7 years, 1 month, and 1 day old when he died, was as ready as anyone's ever been.
The whole family was in Brazil. Melody and Monty were missionaries. The boys, Matthew and Micah, chased lizards and climbed trees. On Saturday night, Aug. 3, Matthew got sick. He was vomiting. He had headaches. The doctors said it was the Brazilian mumps. It wasn't.
"I was in the backseat as we were driving 30 miles to the hospital," Melody says with tears in her eyes. "And Matthew kept reaching out. He had spinal meningitis. He'd already gone blind and lost his ability to walk, and he just kept reaching his hand.
"I'd hold it and he'd tell me, 'No, I don't want it.' And, just in desperation I said, 'Well whatever you want, I'll get it. Just tell me.' And he just said, 'I'm trying to reach Jesus' hand,' and his hand closed in the air and ... that was it."
Telling stories
Christian author Max Lucado, a former missionary to Brazil himself and pastor of Oak Hills Church of Christ in San Antonio where relatives of the Huffmans attended, wrote about their ordeal in his 1993 book "And the Angels Were Silent."
"Max wrote about that and what his last words were," Melody said. " 'I'm reaching for Jesus.' "
It's still hard to talk about. Some days she can't. But each Saturday she'll sit down in front of photos of Matthew, framed and hung on the wall in his "Korner," and tell other people's children all the stories she used to tell him.
Five-year-old Andy Woods even kind of looks like him.
"What's that?" he asks, sucker in his mouth, pointing to a book just before things get going on Saturday.
"That is a book about The Story Keepers," Melody says. "They keep the story of Jesus alive."
(OTHER VOICES: Matthew Morine has a great post about the future of the largest churches of Christ. Check it out.)