Today, I thought it would be fun to show you one of my favorite surprise Christmas gifts this year...and tell you a little story about its history. A history that goes back 33 years!
I don't know if you can read the card here, but it says, "To Miss Gilbert From Mary Kay and John."
This is a little white porcelain angel my brother and I gave our music teacher Miss Gilbert when I was in early elementary school, sometime between 1976-1979. I can hardly believe Miss Gilbert saved it all these 33 years--even the box and gift tag that came with it! I was told that Miss Gilbert is moving to a nursing home, and the sweet lady helping to move her things found this gift tucked away, and gave it to my brother, who lives in our hometown. There were actually 2 angels nestled in the yellowed tissue in the box--a harp angel and a flute angel. My brother kept the harp, and my sister-in-law wrapped up the flute angel as a surprise for me.
I can't tell you how much this little angel means to me! First of all, it is exactly the kind of thing I would have noticed in a store, and wanted to buy. The angel is tiny and delicate, with the sweetest expression on her face. Secondly, I am terribly sentimental. I love that every time I look at my dainty Miss Gilbert angel, I will think of--Miss Gilbert!
Miss Gilbert seemed to struggle with unruly students in our school. By the time my brother and I came through the school, I'm not sure she loved teaching anymore. She loved teaching the students who wanted to learn. But, as you know--most students don't want to sit still and listen to facts about, and musical excerpts by Tchaikovsky. Because my brother and I were kind to Miss Gilbert, and were interested and attentive in class, only endeared us to her.
Miss Gilbert wore her grey and brown speckled hair in a Peter Pan haircut. Her haircut was no-nonsense, but in a cute way, as were her clothes. She looked as though she dressed out of an L.L. Bean catalog. Knits in shades of chestnut and smoky blues, with accessories that spoke of old money. Delicate gold watch, small diamond earrings, short necklaces made of dark gold, given by her late husband.
Miss Gilbert's voice was distinct. She talked as though she were from Connecticut, and not South Arkansas. She enunciated her words, and did not drawl them together. She could, however, make some words linger, as a soloist holding a note. I can still hear her saying my brother's name. She could make "John" last about 3-syllables, 3 different musical pitches. My "Mary Kay" was at least 4 notes. That's because her voice was musical. Its alto timbre somehow sounded kind, even when she was not speaking kind words to those unruly students. It was a voice that made me want to hear more. Sadly, most of the students in class did not fall under its spell, as I did.
When I see my pretty little angel, and think of Miss Gilbert, I will always remember the excitement of getting off her classroom shelves the exotic sounding instruments--the xylophone, marimba, glockenspiel, castanets, maracas, and auto-harp. I remember what it felt like to strum the tin-ey wires while holding plastic buttons with the other hand, accompanying the class to "She'll Be Coming Around the Mountain." I remember the posters in her classroom of the famous composers, their faces forever etched in my brain--the silvery, distinguished Tchaikovsky, the wild hair, intense eyes of Beethoven, and the funny rows of white curls on Mozart.
Mostly, my tiny angel will remind me of a teacher who cared about me. Who remembered me after all these years. Whose voice I can still hear in my head, and whose smile for me I can still see.
I wonder...who will I be an "angel remembrance" for someday? Who around me am I encouraging, speaking kind words, and teaching in a way that will be remembered--even 33 years from now?
It sure does make me think. How about you? Did you have a Miss Gilbert?
"Pleasant words are a honeycomb, Sweet to the soul
and healing to the bones."
- Proverbs 16:24
