SPRING 2007Chris Brown
Clerk of the Board
Thoughts on our day of service: I was tired. My mind was on a thousand things other than worship or service. Isn't losing sleep over a small independent school enough service? If I hadn't said I'd be there, I would have skipped it. But I had said I'd be there…
Meeting for worship has a way of settling even a well-meaning but cynical non-Quaker into a comfortable place. I was able to set some cares aside, and was doing my best to center myself, when a Friend rose, spoke eloquently of Dr. King's legacy, and then suggested that our eclectic group of fifty-plus might break from tradition and sing. The clear, beautiful voice of another Friend started us on a hymn that even a non-singer like me knew and could follow.
The grandmother of a student stood and told us she was not a Quaker, but that she is a vocalist in her Tennessee church not far from the National Civil Rights Museum in Memphis, and she wanted to share with us. In a strong voice, she delivered the message of the revelatory hymn "Wade in the Water". It was as clear and precise and strong a message as I have felt in a meeting in many years.
Others rose. We heard of Quaker connections and personal connections to Dr. King. We heard a teacher speak of how his life was shaped and led by a King speech. We heard hope for a better world, shaped by people who refuse to answer violence with violence. We closed the meeting with handshakes and hugs, and departed for our service at Friends Village.
At the Village, we were divided in half. Some went to the Alzheimer's wing and spent the morning with memory-impaired individuals. The rest of us went to the residential facility. My assignment was to read to an elderly gentleman—wheelchair-bound, unable to hold up his head, and unable to speak. I was given a book of jokes and a book of poetry. For over an hour I read, wondering if what I was doing really mattered. It was only when I looked up at my very captive audience after the first joke that brought a chuckle to me, that I saw a grin on the face of my new friend. An aide came by and told me something of my friend's personal history, and I was able to set the books down and talk about a common thread in our lives. When it was time to go, he reached up, took my hand and solemnly shook it. It was as clear and precise and strong a message as I have felt in a meeting in many years.
Across from us, a middle school student held and gently stroked the hand of another resident while her mother read aloud. In her eyes, I could see that she too felt the power of these strong, unspoken messages. She and the other students I spoke with learned many things on this day off that they voluntarily gave up to serve others.
We returned to school for lunch. I had to force myself to not take "just a minute" to talk business with Drew or the other trustees. There will be time for that tomorrow, when I will let all the worries about money and enrollment and policies back to the front of my mind. For now, I am happy to take a delightfully un-Quaker like pride in this wonderful school of ours that takes the time to make a difference in the lives of the youngest and the oldest members of our community.
If you are also willing to surrender yourself to the sin of pride, then be proud that it is your work that makes this miracle possible. We have a hard road ahead to bring our school to the place we know it can be, and where it belongs. Let's wade in the water together…
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Last modified:
Sunday, March 04, 2007 at 11:12 PM
