Barrel-chested, a little on the short side, an epic beard that reached halfway to his waist, a pleasant face...the man fit the description of a professor one of my kids had enjoyed studying under a couple of years ago. As he passed in front of me, headed toward the exit, I leaned forward in my seat and ventured a guess: "Excuse me, are you Dr. P---?"
He stopped and turned to face me. "Yes, I am."
I stood and held out my hand. "I'm Camille Kendall. I am so glad to meet you, Dr. P---. I believe you taught one of my kids - Reuben."
Dr. P---'s countenance brightened. "Why, yes! How is Reuben doing?" he asked as he grasped my hand and shook it vigorously. "Where is he now?" I gave Dr. P--- a quick update on my son, then Dr. P--- continued: "I still have a few specimens with Reuben's name on them. Every time I look at them, I smile. Please, tell Reuben I asked about him," he beamed, "and that I say 'Hello!'"
* * *
When I mentioned my son's name, his former professor's face lit up like sunshine. This happens not infrequently, this response to "I'm Reuben's mom." It happens, too, when I say, "I'm (Emily/Nate/Tom/Ben/Martha/Helen)'s mom."
All of this to say...
Dear children of mine -
Scripture commands: "Honor your father and mother..." (Exodus 20:12). Everyone single one of you has done that. Each time I encounter someone else whose life you have impacted, I am astounded at the great honor with which you have blessed me.
Thank you. I am deeply grateful. And, I am deeply humbled...such honor from those who best know my frailties!
And, I love you.
You beautiful people make me feel like the richest woman on earth.
|Wow...this was six taken six grand-babies ago!|