B-- was the closest thing I've ever seen to a ghost. She had already long been attending the church by the time I got there in the early nineties, and I'm ashamed to admit that I didn't take the time get to know her until this last year. She was quiet and meek, and spoke her words slowly and carefully. To have a conversation with B-- required one's full attention. If one made too much noise it would drown out the sounds of her words. If one moved around too much or gave the impression of being distracted it could scare her frail form off and she would recede away into the mist. When everything in my life screamed at me to go faster and to multitask, B-- made me slow down and enjoy the moment.
B-- was part of a small group of us who got together on Sunday evenings to pray, read scripture, and encourage each other in our faith. It became apparent in our conversations that she was the rare person who walked with one foot on earth and the other in eternity.
And now she is fully in eternity with the God that she so knew and loved.
B--, I miss you.
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