My first real duty as the costuming teacher last fall was to meet the parents of my students. The afternoon before classes began the mothers and fathers all showed up to hustle through their kids' schedules and get a feel for what this year will be like for them. Since costuming is an elective subject it is the last period of the day. This suits me fine, as it is not an academic pursuit with exams and quizzes, but rather a chance to design clothes and sew.
I was nervous.
When the bell rang for me to begin my welcome talk, no one was there. A few minutes passed, and it dawned on me. The parents were talked out. They had gone home.
Then a woman came rushing into the room.
"Are you looking for costuming?" I asked.
"Yes, I am." I invited her to sit down. We chatted about her daughter, and what she was interested in. She told me about their family, and mentioned that her oldest daughter had died a few years before. I gently asked how.
"She saved her brother from drowning."
All time stood still. A few minutes ago this woman, whom I had noticed earlier in the day, was a complete stranger. Now she was the most precious person in the world. She shared the story about that ordinary March day when her daughter was babysitting at a park while she ran to the store. Her six year old had fallen into the icy river and gotten caught under the frozen foam. His sister went in after him. He lived.
"A few hours later, my in laws heard her voice speaking to them. She said not to worry and that heaven was more beautiful than she could have imagined.
She is fine. We weren't."
I felt a surge of love pouring out for this woman, her family, the sister who thought of nothing but her little brother and dove in.
How is it possible that a sixteen year old girl whose elegance encompassed the capacity to give her life for another, could find a place whose beauty surpassed imagination? Maybe in the end we will all be fine too.
