I Had to Tell Him

      Some of you may know I was at Freed-Hardeman University a couple of weeks ago with my parents.  It was during the lectureships.  I attended a luncheon for writers who contribute to Gospel Advocate publications.  I also had the pleasure of hearing Becky Blackmon speak while I was there.  She is a huge encouragement to Christian women.
       I had a great time!  Dad drove us and Mom went with me to the luncheon.  On the way there, Dad said he planned to check on available classes.  He even said he "might make a preacher yet."  For those of you who may not know, my Dad worked as a minister for several years while we were growing up.  He is very effective in sharing God's word.  
        Mom and I met several people at the luncheon including a young lady who recently contributed her first article to Christian Woman.  She and her friend were quite friendly.  They were lively upbeat young women who were thankful to be students at Freed-Hardeman University.  
        There were so many servants of Christ who serve through writing and speaking for the Lord.  Also present were those who serve behind the scenes to make sure Christian materials are published for those who want to learn more about God.  I was overwhelmed, and grateful!
      Then I saw him --or at least I thought it was him.  Suddenly, memories from almost 40 years ago washed over me.  I asked to be sure,  because it had been so long.  I was right.  The man I saw sitting against the wall across the room was Cecil May.  
      I can't properly describe how I felt as I told Mom who it was.  Naturally, she recognized him too.  Cecil May has spent many years working for God.  He is a gospel preacher, Christian writer and teacher.  His involvement in Christian college education goes back decades.  He is well-known and respected by many, many people.  
     But none of that is why I remember him.  No my knowledge is much more personal to me.  I knew Mr. May would not remember me.  After all, it was a long time ago.  Ten minutes -- our conversation only lasted about ten minutes.  I hadn't thought about it for years.  
      Yet seeing him brought everything back so clearly.  We were in Florence, AL.  I lived in Florence for about a year.  We were in the cafeteria of what was then International Bible College.   It is known as Heritage University now. 
       I don't know if they still do but at the time,  a congregation of Christians met at the college for worship.  They had a fellowship meal that night.   I was new to the congregation.  I don't remember the circumstances; but I ended up staying for the meal.  
      I may have looked lonely to them or maybe they just wanted to meet someone they didn't know.  That's what all Christians should do, right?  We should all strive to be friendly and reach out to others, especially to those who are new or may be visiting with us.   
      At any rate, Cecil and his wife Winnie (who has since passed from this life) came over to greet me.  They introduced themselves and we began a conversation.  I was expecting my first son very soon and of course that was visibly obvious.  
      Naturally the conversation eventually turned to my baby - the due date, was I feeling well, etc.  Then he asked the question I knew one of them would ask sooner or later.  The question I dreaded.  See,  I was going to be a single mother.  
      Cecil asked about my husband.  I told them I wasn't married.  "Here it comes," I thought.  'They would turn away now.  They wouldn't want to have anything to do with me.  I was about to be an unwed mother.  Why on earth would this Christian couple want to have anything to do with me?"
       I couldn't have been more wrong!  They didn't turn away.  They didn't go speak to someone more suitable to keep company with.  I got no look of disdain - no condemnation in their words or their tone.  They simply said, "Oh, you're not?"  and continued to talk to me about other things.  
     Cecil and Winnie gave me what I needed at the time.  Could they have known that or was it just their way?  It may have been both.  They treated me with kindness, grace and dignity.  They didn't make me feel ashamed or look down on me in any way.  They simply showed their Christian love to a fellow human being.  
       That brief conversation had a huge impact on me.  So when I saw Cecil sitting across the room, I was overcome with emotion.  I told Mom, "You know, I should probably go speak to him.  He was very kind to me once."  
       "Really?  How so?" she asked.  I told her the story.  She didn't know.  I never shared it with her before.  Seeing him brought it all back like it only happened yesterday. 
      I had the overwhelming urge to go tell him -- to let him know how much those few moments had meant -- to tell him how he made me feel that night.  Yet I hesitated.  So many others were around him - speaking to him.  I didn't want to interrupt him.  
     I kept watching and finally I saw an opportunity.  No one was around him at that particular moment.  I knew if I didn't go speak to him I would always regret it.  So I went for it!  I had to tell him. 
      He saw me walking toward him and gave me a slight smile.  I knew he wouldn't know who I was.  As I leaned over to speak to him, I reached for his hand.  He grasped mine and smiled again.  
      I told him my name.  Then I told him how he once showed a lonely young woman a small kindness.  Our conversation went something like this: 
     "Brother May, I wanted to tell you how forty years ago you met a single woman about to become an unwed mother and you treated her with all the grace and dignity in the world.  I was that woman.  Your kindness meant so much to me back then."  
      He said, "I did?"  
     "Yes sir, you did.  And I have never forgotten it." 
    "Well, you look like you are doing fine now."  He smiled and squeezed my hand a little.  
     "Yes sir - I am and he is too.  He grew up to be a school teacher and a Christian."  
      Cecil shook my hand a little and said, "Oh, that's good."  He smiled again - so sweetly.  Then he said, "Thank you for coming to speak to me.  Thank you for telling me this."  The look in his face made me glad I  followed my instinct.
      I left the luncheon with so much joy and thankfulness in my heart!!  The whole experience was wonderful; but the opportunity to see and speak to Mr. May was the best part.  
He treated me with the same sweet kindness he did so long ago.  In doing so, he reinforced to me the kind of Christian man he is -- and has always been.  
       All of us will be remembered in some way.  We may be remembered because of great and wonderful things -- perhaps someone will think of us because we were a huge success in our career.  But someone somewhere will remember us for something very personal.  It will be something no one else will ever know.  
      Never forget ... we touch lives.  What we do matters - everything we do matters.  Someone will have a very personal memory of us.  It may be an incident from a short sliver of time.  But it will have a huge impact.  Let's be sure to make it a positive one -- one that glorifies God. 

Christ above all things, 
Robin