A post by Mary

When I think back over my school years, one person I remember most vividly is my fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. Eva Mae Cross. Even as a child, I thought her name suited her perfectly. She was an older woman—or at least she seemed old to a fourth grader—and she carried a red yardstick that was both respected and feared by every child in the classroom.

I had seen Mrs. Cross use that red yardstick on more than one occasion, and I can testify that it was quite effective. In fact, I felt the sting of it myself one unforgettable day.

In our classroom, a student needed permission to go to the restroom. We were expected to raise a hand with it closed in a fist.  One day, I found myself needing to go and did exactly as I had been taught. I raised my hand and waited patiently. Apparently, Mrs. Cross never saw me. I continued to wait as long as I possibly could, but eventually my need became an emergency.

Now, I was not the sort of child who acted impulsively or deliberately disobeyed authority. I tried very hard to mind my “Ps and Qs,” stay out of trouble, and do what was expected of me. But on that particular day, I simply could not wait any longer. So I quietly got up, left the classroom, and hurried down the hall to the restroom.

When I returned, Mrs. Cross saw me immediately and called me to her desk.

Without much discussion, she took my hand, stretched it back as far as she could, and delivered a solid swat across my bare palm with that famous red yardstick.

Needless to say, not only was Mrs. Cross cross, but I was too. Right then and there, I made a firm resolution that I would never again find myself on the receiving end of that red yardstick. Thankfully, I kept that promise to myself.

Despite that memorable experience, I look back on my fourth-, fifth-, and sixth-grade years as some of the happiest and most enjoyable of my school life. They were years filled with learning, friendship, and experiences that have stayed with me for more than seven decades.

One particularly happy memory was our class trip to the Stephen Foster Memorial in Suwannee County. We participated in an Indian dance presentation, and my mother made me a long skirt with an Indian-inspired design to wear for the occasion. Our class practiced diligently and eventually performed alongside students from other schools. To a child, it was exciting, special, and great fun.

I also thoroughly enjoyed learning about the state of Florida, the state where I was born and raised. Those lessons helped deepen my appreciation for the place I called home.

But of all my memories from those years, one stands above all the others.

In those days, our school day began with the Pledge of Allegiance, Bible reading, and prayer. None of us could have imagined that such practices, which seemed as natural as breathing, would disappear from public schools within just a few short years. We simply accepted them as part of our daily lives.

I remember Mrs. Cross teaching our class a passage from the Gospel of John—John 14:1–15. At the time, she could not have known what an impact those words would have on one little girl sitting in her classroom. Yet the truth she shared took root in my heart and has remained there throughout my entire life.

The passage begins:

“Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.” (John 14:1–2, KJV)

As a child, I could not have fully understood the depth of those words. But as the years passed, and as I experienced both joys and sorrows, those promises became increasingly precious to me. The assurance that Jesus was preparing a place for those who trust Him has brought me comfort, peace, and hope throughout my life.

Now, at eighty years of age, I still repeat those verses to myself often. In fact, I spoke them aloud again today. They have sustained me through difficult days, encouraged me during uncertain times, and reminded me that this world is not my final home.

As I look back over the many years God has given me, I realize that one of the greatest gifts Mrs. Cross ever gave me was not an academic lesson, but a spiritual one. I will be eternally grateful to her for teaching our class that precious passage from the Gospel of John. I believe with all my heart that God saw and heard the influence she had on the children entrusted to her care, and I believe He will reward her for her faithful service. Certainly, He knows the profound influence she had on me.

Mrs. Cross may never have realized that the words she taught would remain in the heart of one of her students for more than seventy years. But they have. And every time I repeat that precious promise of Jesus, I remember Mrs. Cross with gratitude and thank God for placing her in my life.

Some teachers teach lessons that last until the end of the school year. Others teach lessons that last a lifetime. Mrs. Cross did both.

Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me.

In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.

And whither I go ye know, and the way ye know. Thomas saith unto him, Lord, we know not whither thou goest; and how can we know the way?Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.f ye had known me, ye should have known my Father also: and from henceforth ye know him, and have seen him.

Philip saith unto him, Lord, show us the Father, and it sufficeth us. Jesus saith unto him, Have I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not known me, Philip? he that hath seen me hath seen the Father; and how sayest thou then, Show us the Father?

Believest thou not that I am in the Father, and the Father in me?

The words that I speak unto you I speak not of myself: but the Father that dwelleth in me, he doeth the works.

Believe me that I am in the Father, and the Father in me: or else believe me for the very works’ sake. Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on me, the works that I do shall he do also; and greater works than these shall he do; because I go unto my Father.

And whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If ye shall ask any thing in my name, I will do it. If ye love me, keep my commandments.

John 14

King James Version

A Post by Mary

Papa Duck My Grandfather, Walter Robert Duckworth

We went to Tifton, Georgia often to see my grandparents.  It was the “gathering place”, much like my home is today.

I was a teenager the last time I saw him.  He had been sick for what seemed like months.  The first time I had an inkling that something was wrong was when we “went to town”.  That was the all-in-all destination on Saturdays in Tifton.  The kids waited and waited for the adults to get dressed up to go to town.  Mama Duck put on a pretty dress but left her hair in pin-curls so it could be combed out the next day for church.  She would wrap a scarf around her head and off she’d go.  I think I saw her in pin-curls more than I saw her without them. It always struck me funny, even at my young age, but that was the way it always was and always would be.

It seemed like it took forever before we would all climb into the car for the ride down the old red clay road until we reached the paved roads that meant we were almost there.

Mostly it was one street but it had everything!  There was a movie theater, two five and dimes, a drugstore with a soda fountain, and Belks, where we could usually find Mama Duck and Mother, and an aunt or two. Then there was Papa Duck’s barber shop, where we loved to go and see Papa Duck and Uncle Bob. We were always treated with a five cent bottled Coca Cola.  I remember when they went up to a dime of all things.  But we were special because we knew the owner and he would open the coke “machine” up like a refrigerator door and give us kids our own for free.  On one such trip to town I was told to go with Papa or follow him or some such, and keep an eye on him so he wouldn’t get lost.  They said he had hardening of the arteries.  Sadly, it wasn’t long before he was bed-ridden.

On another trip to see my grandparents I was standing by his hospital bed that was set up in his own bedroom, ready to say good-bye. He was holding my hand and squeezing.  And squeezing.  It must have been my class ring, or rather Richard’s.  All I could think of was the pain.  For such a frail little man he had the strength of someone much younger.  I couldn’t wait until he was through loving on me.

Then there was one last time, probably a couple of weeks later.  I can see him as if it was yesterday.  Papa was reclining in one of those fold-up aluminum and plastic “lawn chairs” by the front door.  My Daddy was standing to the side as we all said our good-byes.  Papa reached for my hand and said, “if I never see you again, I want you to know how much I love you”.  I just stood there, tears beginning to fall on my cheeks, without saying anything.  I couldn’t.  That was one of those moments I wish I could have a do-over.  If only.  I loved him so much.  Grand-parents were different back then.  At least for me.  I only remember one or two occasions that stood out to me when we really interacted.  I’m sure there were more but I remember only a couple.  One was when he was going to the barn and invited me to go with him to gather eggs.  The other was when he was in the kitchen, washing dishes.  I asked him if he liked washing dishes, to which he replied that he did, as it gave him time to think about things.  That was rather odd to me since it was my most hated chore.  Since then I have stood at my own kitchen sink washing dishes, even though I have a dishwasher, thinking, mostly of my Papa Duck, standing in front of his sink, thinking.

He was a quiet man.  If only I had pulled up a chair and asked him about some of his thoughts.  I would probably be a lot smarter.  I know I would have gained more insight into this mystery of a man I longed to know better.  As I stood there taking in the fact that my Grandfather had just told me he loved me for perhaps the first time, at least the first time that I remember, my Daddy took me by the shoulders and hugged me as he led me out of the house.  Yes, it was the last time I saw him alive.

He died on Good Friday and was buried on Easter Sunday.  Ironic.  The day that Jesus arose from the grave, Papa went into it.  But because of that day, I have the hope and promise of seeing him again.  And I promise you that I will pull up a chair and ask him all those questions I’ve been storing up for him.

Later my Daddy told me that those were the last words Papa had spoken. Perhaps he’s going to have a lot to say too. Just perhaps.

Mary Reid
March 8, 2022

A post by Mary

Today I had the most unusual and pleasant experience when I called AT&T to change my service.

The young man in customer service I spoke to was from Asia.

He said his name was

Bart

Bart told me that I would be able to call him Super Bart once he had helped me.

And he would make me an offer I couldn’t refuse.

During our conversation Bart sang three songs for me.

Three Whole Songs

First he sang “Country Road” by John Denver.

Have you ever heard an Asian person sing with a country accent?

It was funny and cute.

Next he sang “In My Life”.

This was followed by I’m on the “Top Of The World” – all the way through!

I mean the whole of all three songs!

Now I ask you, what kind of person sings not one, but three songs to their customer? More than that, what kind of person sits there and listens to it?

Well, I didn’t listen the whole time; I sang with him. I guess we really made a connection.

When we hung up we were probably both smiling. I like to think so.

He even invited me to his country. Maybe I would go sometime if I understood what country he said it was.

By the way my cable and wireless bill was reduced from $250 a month to $103.

~

MDR

A post by Mary

Today the Lord came to me in the form of the man collecting trash.

I had failed to put my little bag of trash out last night, so I put it in the car and was going to drop it at the curb when I left this morning.

About that time I heard, then saw, the garbage truck pass by.

So I got out of the car and took the bag out and left it in the garage instead of taking it to work with me. As I turned around to get back in the car, this young man was standing there.

He told me that he always looks out for his customers.

I was overwhelmed with his kindness.

It literally brought tears to my eyes. I asked him his name.

Meet Maurice Jones.

I told him I was going to pray for him today. If you feel so inclined please pray for him, too…He is going the second mile. I reached out and hugged his neck, not seeing a man collecting trash.

I saw Jesus.

The Lord bless Maurice Jones!

Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it.
Hebrews 13:2 NASB

~

MDR

Critters seem to find their way into my house and usually I find them after they’ve gone to the great beyond – thank goodness!

But while cleaning the family room

–

A

Lizard!

We came upon each other suddenly…

as he was sunning himself on the back of the sofa.

While spiders and bugs get a swat or a spray, lizards get a pass.

I can pick it up by that long tail and take it to the door and gently let it go to a new lease on life.

I reached for him and his eyes grew large.  I could see the fear in his eyes or so it seemed.  I pulled and he held on for dear life, no kidding, and those little feet dug into the tapestry fabric.  I said, “come on little fella, let go; I’m not going to hurt you.   I’m going to set you free”.  I just wanted to put him back into his natural habitat, but all he saw was something bigger than life and he wasn’t about to let go.

It became quite funny, a battle of sorts. The more I pulled, the more he held on. I could almost hear him crying, “somebody help me”!

Finally, I was able to peel him away from the sofa.

As I made my way to the door I began to ponder, isn’t that what God has to do with us when we think we’re in a “safe place”, comfortably living our lives?

He knows it’s not the best plan for us.

Sometimes it hurts and we become afraid as He “pries us away” from what we thought was good only to find we can experience something far better. His aim is not to hurt us, even though at the time we can only think of our pain and fear.

If we could pause and remember that in all our ways to acknowledge Him, then He would direct our paths, and would do a better work in us that, even if we tried, we could never imagine. God, in His providence, has only our good in mind.

In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.

Proverbs 3:6 KJV

MDR