I received word that my friend, Dr. Grace (so dubbed by my sister and I), recently left on a grand adventure. She stepped out of a worn and fragile body lacking strength, vision and hearing, and must have danced into the realm of heaven shouting with joy as she went. I imagine she met up with my parents shortly after her arrival, bragging about getting there after 99 years. I can assure you, she livened the place up!
This lady was a precious gem. She was one of those rare few people who found something good in everyone. She was a voice for those who were separated by barriers created by status, poverty, race, philosophies of life, creed or religion.
Dr. Grace was aptly named, for grace is what she extended to others. She was a champion to the abandoned, a savior to the rejected, a teacher to those deemed unteachable, a friend to the untouchable, an advocate for those without a voice, a hero of many. She was not conformed to this world nor swayed by popular vote. She dared take a stand at a time when women hid behind apron strings and were told what their opinion should be. She associated with those shunned by poverty, race or even “sin”, offering them a hug of friendship, love and hope.
This special lady was a Doctor of Psychology at the University of Georgia, a theologian, artist, author, counselor, teacher of all ages, tutor, mother, and wife, among other things. She did not walk the halls of tradition, but instead opened doors of opportunity and change. She was wise, kind and non-judgmental. Even as a child, she peered from behind walls and around corners and rightly repelled the injustices she witnessed that society deemed as permissible.
Dr. Grace loved children. That deep love stemmed from a childhood of often feeling unloved and knowing from the start that she was different than other children and the society that surrounded her. She wrote a short book called, “The Child.” A quote from her book reads,
“Thou shalt not kill was not spoken of the body alone.
It also meant thou shalt not kill a child’s dream.”
Dr. Grace was a giver of dreams. Every child she met was valuable and she encouraged them to dare to aspire to reach for their dreams. Her tolerance, acceptance and compassion reached beyond the visible to chisel away the roughness to reveal diamonds of great worth. She knew hidden inside of each child was a treasure.
I was able to take my daughter and grandchildren to visit her a few months ago. We had a blast! She laughed and told them stories of my early years and of their mom when she was young. My life is much richer because of her years of friendship. I attribute surviving my teenage years to Dr. Grace. There is not space on these pages to express my admiration for Dr. Grace, but here are a couple of excerpts from one of her books that might help to understand why she was so special.
“My two boys, ages six and four, were playing in the sandbox with three other little boys. The sandbox was in the back yard not too far from the kitchen window so I could know what went on in their play area. I heard one little boy, not one of mine, say, “I’ve got the prettiest mama in Winterville.” Neither of my boys said a word. “I got the smartest mama in Winterville,” said another. Neither of mine said a word. “My mama can talk more than any-body anywhere,” the third said. I thought surely my boys would contest that! Not a word. There was a brief silence, then my oldest declared with great pride and triumph in my defense, “That’s all right; we got the only crazy mama in Winterville.” I smiled, no, I grinned, because I knew what he meant. He did not have the vocabulary to express his thoughts, but he knew his mama was different; his mama was fun; his mama did things the other mamas would not do, like camping out in the back yard, and looking for elves in the woods. Their mama was crazy and we liked it that way.”
“One of the children was watching the puppy eat his dinner out of his bowl on the kitchen floor. “Mama, what’s it like to eat on the kitchen floor instead of at the table?” “Why don’t we see?” So the child put his bowl of cereal on the kitchen floor close to the puppy and proceeded to try to eat without a spoon. He didn’t get much cereal, but made a serious mess. “O.K. Mama, now I know.” He was content to eat like a person. Only a crazy mama would let her child eat off the kitchen floor with a puppy. It was fun!”
Dr. Grace, thanks for the memories, the acceptance, love, and the joy you brought to me and so many others. May you have the time of your life! Well done!
“Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute; Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.” “Give her the reward she has earned, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.”