A Friend - One of God's most precious gifts

Spaghetti.  Faiith. Warm delicious cookies. Advocate. Books.  Children.  Perfectly organized refrigerator. Gentle.  Loving.  Chow Mein noodles.  Mmmmmm coffee.  Letters.  Friend.  Helpmate. Cards.  Passionate.  Wife.  Giving.  Trustworthy.  Motherly.  Caring. Tender.  Quilts.  Yellow.

A little girl lost her father.  Her mother was out of the picture, and her dad was all she had.  She loved him so much. He was sick and death was emminent, but she was in 4th grade and who's daddy dies when your in 4th grade?  The teacher had to be the one to break the news to a little group of 4th grade children, and they were devastated.  She asked me to be in the room when she told them as who knows what their reaction will be.  Some may be non chalant as it makes no sense, others may act out in disbelief, and yet some may just fall apart coming from an insecure world of their own.

I went.  I went to support her in this most difficult task.  I felt strong, and as if I was able to assist in whatever capacity she may need.  She sat the children down on the floor in front of her and she sat down on one of their little chairs to be closer to them.  The air was tense and the children knew something was up, as this was just way out of the ordinary.  One exclaims, "where is Mary?"  Another feels the safety of the secure environment she'd created jeapardised and sits very close to her, touching her leg.  

She takes a deep breath, and tells the class that Mary's dad passed away.  It was quiet.  It was uncomfortable.  It was filled with an unknowing on all fronts.  The teachers, mine, and the students.  It seemed like hours, but realistically seconds later - one of the students - one of the more difficult students with a very shakey almost non existant homelife - let out a cry and jumped into her teachers lap crying uncontrollably.  The teacher began to talk to the students about death, and family, and Mary, and fear, and hope, and love.  She told them how they could help Mary through this, and how they could be her family.  She let them ask questions, and get their thoughts out there so they didn't haunt them the rest of the day, wondering if this could happen to them.  All the while she spoke to these children, in her motherly loving and tender way, she held this shattered little girl in her lap.  Close.  Caressing her little head, and kissing her on the forehead.  

This was no ordinary teacher.  While a mom, this was no ordinary mother.  While a caring human being, this was no ordinary concerned citizen.  THIS was a woman worthy of note.  A woman of faith poured out and shaken up.  A gift.  A treasure.  While I was there to assist her in the meeting of the needs of these littles, I was the one that was taught.  I was given a gift that day.  I got to see what a selfless person does in the midst of grief.  I witnessed what true love and care looked like when it wasn't poured out among your own loved ones, but those your life affects nonetheless.  

She was my friend before.  I had the utmost respect for her, and deeply admired her passion for kids.  I watched her instill a love of reading and a love affair with books to her students.  I watched her students find her in eyesight and then I watched their faces light up.  I experienced the classroom when she would vascilate between the roles of mother, nurse, dietician, disciplinarian, friend, judge, counselor, and teacher.  I watched her go to bat putting everything on the line for those with no voice.  I saw evidence of a very timid person blessed with a spirit of boldness when it came to the needs of a child.

She changed my life.  She became more than a friend.  She became someone I wanted to emmulate.  I saw things in her character that humbled me, and I wanted to be more like her.  Today, 20 some years later, when i hear her voice a calm comes over my spirit.  When I hear her laugh, my heart is warmed.  In my last post I mentioned a little yellow box with writing on it - it is hers.  When I showed the box to Jim he knew immediately who it was from, and you could see the thought of her warming his heart as well.  Our sons admire her, and of all the people in their lives she probably holds the position of most respect.

Miss Billye they call her.  I call her friend . . . . and I am blessed beyond measure!

Happy Birthday friend!

Proverbs 31:

26 She opens her mouth with wisdom,
and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.
30 Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain,
but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.
31 Give her of the fruit of her hands,
and let her works praise her in the gates.