I think about her often as I drink my coffee in the morning. She gave me this lovely cup.
She never wore the uniform issued to her. She greeted us every morning in gingham checked smocks sewn by her and a long lanyard with three keys hanging around her neck. I, on the other hand, had a dozen or so keys to open display cases, the language lab and all the doors of my teachers as the need arose. Yet she had only three. I have learned since, there is power in only having three keys. Of all her gingham dresses, I remember the yellow gingham dress with the large white buttons best. Her long black hair was neatly braided in a crown around the top of her head. She didn’t really smile. Her quiet demeanor seemed to smile for her as she showed satisfaction in doing a good job. And, a good job she did as she had been entrusted with only three keys that opened everything. She helped us start our days peacefully in our child zone. I was an early bird. Still the one hundred cup coffee maker always showed the red light on and signaled coffee was ready to start the day. I don’t think she ever missed a day.
One morning, I couldn’t find my cup. She knew something was amiss.
“Aren’t you going to drink the coffee? It’s ready.”
“Yes, but my cup is missing.”
She wasn’t surprised. She wasn’t as disturbed as I was.
“I’ve got just the one for you, Miss Georgette. Your name is French, isn’t it?”
I knew when she gave it to me, it was a very special cup. It was something lovely that had called out to her when she found it and could be loved by another. Where in the world did she get it? Supplying us with cups was not in her contract. Yes, I always think about her when I drink from this cup and the family knows not to touch it. Just to be safe, I place it in the back of the cupboard, so it’s not the first one someone grabs.
She helped us with gift giving. Her Avon books sat on the teachers’ lounge tables for us to take care of Christmas shopping, birthdays and “just because” occasions during our free time. Free time? Not much, but she found a very practical market and grateful customers.
One morning I came to school without my earrings on.
“Where are your ear bobs?” she asked me.
I had forgotten to get completely dressed! Busy morning I guess. “Good thing I have these I keep in my purse just in case,” I came back.
They were plain gold studs my husband had given me before we were married. So I went into the ladies’ to use the mirror as I put them on. My morning did not improve as I dropped one down the sink.
“Oh no,” I cried out coming out from the bathroom. “I dropped one down the sink and it’s gone.”
Jewel found a wrench and went into the bathroom. Before I knew it, she emerged out of the bathroom with the lost “ear bob.” “Alls I did was open the trap,” she explained.
To me it was gone, gone down the drain. But Jewel knew better. In addition to keeping the coffee, displaying her Avon books and supplying the coffee cups she showed me she knew how to wield a wrench, too.
Sweet story, Georgette! It made me smile. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard someone refer to earrings as “ear bobs”! She sounds like a very special person, and I’m sure that cup is a treasure to you.
I’m glad it made your smile. Our principal knew exactly what he was doing in hiring her. She always helped us get our day off to a good start.
We should all be so lucky to have someone like her!
She certainly brought a personal touch to our office space. Today we just help ourselves to a styrofoam cup.
What a sweet woman!
She certainly brought her own style and ♥ to work with her.
Is Jewel still living? I can see why that cup is your favorite. Lots of memories, love, and relationship symbolized there. 🙂
In my thoughts over morning coffee I’ve often thought of the number of positive relationships she made that contributed to the culture of our school.
What a lovely cup. I’ll bet it makes your coffee that much sweeter, the memories flow with each sip.
“Ear bobs”…I haven’t heard that in years…love it!
It does, Jill. Lots of memories are stirred.
she sounds like a wonderful woman who gave a solid foundation to many.
She certainly helped get a lot of days started off on the right foot.
She was what I call self-sufficient, something many of us aspire to. What a sweet, touching story! Cup is exquisite, too.
You’re right, she was self-sufficient and resourceful. I can say that is when I learned about sink plumbing traps something useful to know about.
Jewel sounds like the perfect name for her – that 3-key person who left such a wonderful impression on you.
True story…that was her name. I sincerely wish all “baby” teachers can meet people on staff who encourage, notice and listen like she did when I was in my twenties.
Jewel is a gem. When I read the missing earring anecdote I recalled a time when the tables were turned and I supplied a pair of earrings from my office desk drawer for a colleague who thought she was not completely dressed without bejeweled ears. (Now why did I have a pair there to begin with?) But I can’t wield a wrench–completely lost in that department. Love this story, Georgette. They just keep coming, a good thing!
Love that you had a spare pair on hand to help out a friend. I hate it when that happens…leaving the house forgetting my earrings. Sometimes I have an extra pair, sometimes not.
What a sweet lady, a true Jewel, I’d say.
She certainly helped us start our day right.
What a wonderful tribute to a special woman. The world needs more like her.
I think so too, Darlene. In the world of education, I do hope young teachers are noticed and supported by the staff around them.
I used to have a Jewel like that in my life. I am thankful too. Lovely tribute Georgette. Love that she was able to get your “ear bob”.
Her presence certainly nurtured a habit of easing into the day, kind of like what we do here, Pix. I am glad you had a Jewel, too. She contributed so much to our school culture being aware, engaged and helpful.
Don’t our memories of those who once blessed us (or repeatedly did so) make the sweetest stories? Pure evidence of that right here in your post. 🙂
Thank you, mama. This was definitely not hard to write as I have thought about her kindness and resourcefulness over and over again. A few years ago I wrote about my favorite mugs, and I deliberately left this one out, reserving it for its own post. It bubbled up this past week, I guess, as I pray for its safe move.
Such a sweet story of such a special lady … thanks for sharing. It’s people like her that keep the world smiling & hopeful that good still exists. I know she was a lovely way to start your day each day.
One thing I never heard from her was whining and complaining. She had her own style of just taking care of things.
Great story. Nothing like a something simple that is actually precious!
Glad you liked it, Frank.
The ones among us who have the gift of foregoing whining and complaining are jewels, indeed. And how wonderful that you have a tangible reminder of her. That’s the real value of gifts – that they connect us to others, and keep their presence alive.
I’d not thought much about the fact that I’ve stopped wearing earrings entirely. After a few years, I stopped wearing them to work, and I guess the habit of putting them on just disappeared. Interesting. But I loved hearing “ear bobs.” I haven’t heard that phrase in years.
I find that I get impatient with (no, make that I tune out) any discussion regarding whether it’s in the contract, answering the question “Do we get paid for this?”, or “I’m not responsible for that.” I’m not impressed with a shrug of the shoulders or “That’s too bad.” One does what common sense dictates (thoughtfulness is small sacrifices made) + a little joie de vivre added. In a school culture, if it’s important to the student it must be addressed. Jewel kicked that off every morning with us and thus it rippled out making its impact.
I have often thought of this tangible gift. It could have been lost or it could in some mishap have crashed to the tile floor. Truly I rather marvel at its long life at school, in the office, up and down stairs, down hallways, left on my desk overnight, packed over the summer in a box and just residing among young people where “accidents do happen”. It has survived a lot.
I still wear earrings, but I have sworn off lipstick. A colleague telling me or a student raising his/her hand to inform me “You have lipstick on your teeth” is not where I want the conversation or discussion to go.