Curryville Teachers

The next house was Rev. Clyde Bush's family. They had two daughters, Carolyn and Lois. Carolyn was a dear friend of mine. I played at their house often. Clyde had only one arm and I was amazed that he just went about life as though he didn't even know it was missing. They were a loving family. It was always comforting when I visited at Carolyn's home.

Next was where my classmate, Bobby Ritchey, lived. His father, "Bud" ran Curry Supply. His mother, Sara, was my Sunday School teacher. She was always so kind and soft spoken. Posted on the wall in our Sunday School room, she had a picture of Jesus with children all around Him. She and Evelyn Guyer and other teachers taught us to sing, "Red and yellow, black and white. They are precious in His sight. Jesus loves the little children of the world." They told us that we should love everyone. I wanted to see some of those people of different colors because I knew I would love them. I saw my first black person when I was about 12 years old at Camp Harmony and I loved him. I later lived at an Indian School with 2,500 American Indians and I loved them. I later worked in prisons with thousands and thousands of inmates of many colors and I loved them all.

How does one thank teachers for the beautiful gifts they give us that make it possible for us to live rich and full lives.

Curryville was full of teachers. Most of them taught by their example. I observed their excitement when they prepared the church meals, when they had bake sales to raise money for the church. The pure joy they had when they gave of themselves for others made me want to be a giver also.

I am constantly reminded of those Curryville ladies, because I have a quilt that they made for me. Mother embroidered the patches for the quilt. Each patch has the name of a U.S. state, its flower and its bird. The ladies hand stitched those patches into a quilt. The background of the quilt is yellow, my favorite color. As I run my fingers over the quilt, I think of all those loving hands, thousands of stitches for Virginia's daughter's hope chest.

They taught me that giving was fun. As I practiced what they taught, I not only felt that joy but learned that one cannot out give. It comes back more than double.

Because of that principle modeled for me through my Curryville teachers, my cup overflowed ... all my life.