Sunday, January 14, 2007

Virgie Bell's View

We learn small truths in everyday events that concern us as a child. The core of our values and beliefs are instilled at an early age. When I was in high school unbeknownst to me, I had tied with another girl for Football Queen. My oldest brother was the captain of the team and it fell to Mickey to break the tie. He had been absent the day of the vote. He discussed this problem with my mother and the two of them agreed that it would be a disservice to me if I received the honor under the circumstances. They also felt it held an unfair advantage for the girl who, once his vote was cast, would wear the crown at the homecoming game that year.

She rode around the football field in my brother’s black Pontiac convertible and it was beautiful. I can’t remember any resentment on my part. I really can’t. Honor and a sense of fair play are the bedrock value of a nation. They are learned within a family. They are the Friday night lights, the junior play, the senior trip. They are that first marriage when dreams are still achievable; they are the children of that marriage. It is before we learn first hand of divorce and step families. It is seeing these children go off to war, and often, losing them in a foreign land. It is also to see this pattern go on and on. But in the back of our minds, at the depth of our souls, it is to preserve this same thing for all those that come after us. We want them to experience the Friday night lights, the junior play and senior trip. We want them to fall in love and marry and believe their dreams are achievable. Please ... let not let this American Dream, the American Spirit die...Please SUPPORT THE TROOPS.

1 comment:

De'on Miller said...


This is absolutely beautiful. The brevity, the message, the prose. It touches me deeply and I've made sure to save myself a hard copy.

Especially today, when your baby is 52, okay, not your real baby, but your first, perhaps when your dreams were fresh.

Time has dimmed some of the dreams, but we are closer, as we grow older and wiser, to the dream of eternity. I really mean that.

So much that I'd hoped in as a younger woman was not in God's plan for me. But all I hoped in then is what I could see, taste and feel, talk to or take care of!

Now, that all seems so far away, but I don't wish for it back. I wish for what I cannot see, but is so near me, that I can taste and feel and talk, and KNOW that the best things in life truly are born of real sacrifice. The pain becomes sweet and a part of me. Like the son who seems as if he always was, now the pain that I know is for a short time only is my company.

It's not depression. I don't think it is anyway.

For some unfathomable reason, I have more hope than I've ever had in my life.

Much of the time, I bask in the release of "absolute control over NOTHING" except for how much I open up, embrace the pain, embrace new friends, and embrace the long heritage of a family that would cast a vote for another.

We can't give enough, and we can't outgive The Giver.

He takes my mistakes and my weaknesses and makes something real and blessed out of even those.

He touches me where I thought He would never touch me again.

I love my Lord and the life He's given me. I wouldn't change a thing.

And mother of my youth, I love you with all my heart.

You did well.

Semper Fi, Granny!