I don’t remember the first time I met Anna Carol, but she liked to tell me the story so many times, so it seems as if I should remember it. Apparently, she used to occasionally sit behind my family at church and as a toddler, I’d make silly faces at her – and she back at me. And one time when I escaped my mother and ran down the aisle in the middle of the sermon, she helped to wrangle me back to where I belonged. She liked to remind me of that story any time one of my own children displayed any “strong-willed” tendencies. Most of my childhood and adolescent memories of AC were with the children’s bell and chime choir at Grace Lutheran. I rang with AC from the time I was in 4th grade until my senior year of high school. She became like a second mother to me – always caring and always understanding. She had a wonderful way of making me feel that she liked me for who I was and that she genuinely enjoyed spending time with me. As an adolescent, that feeling of acceptance meant so much to me. I have so many little memories of laughing with her, exploring the church as we tried to locate her lost keys, and of course trying to stop goofing around long enough to learn some music. I still can’t believe that she took us on a weekend trip to Kutztown University for a bell fest. I sat up front with her in the big van she rented. The others sat in the rows behind us. I don’t remember much about that trip, but I do remember laughing a lot. And her teasing me when I got claustrophobic as we drove through “The Narrows” on 322 East. Not many people would volunteer to take a group of teenagers on a multi-day bell festival. But she did with humor and patience. We stayed in touch over the years – easily done through church and facebook. When I started teaching at Grace Lutheran Preschool, I was so blessed to have her as my “classroom grandparent”. When I was hired, one of the first things I asked was, “Can I have AC for my room grandparent?” We spent many happy days with our students. I got to watch how the children lit up when “Grandma Anna Carol” entered the room, and how they all clambered for her attention. She would get down and play with them – whether it was with playdoh, building blocks, dolls, or puzzles. I’d often worry that they’d knock her over with their enthusiasm. But she loved every moment and didn’t hold back. My students could see in her what I did - that warmth and kindness – and we all gravitated toward it. AC and I would often stand side-by-side – with our arms around each other and my head on her shoulder – and we’d watch the kids play. I loved those moments with her. Or after the children left, she’d stay, and we’d chat. She’d share stories about her family – especially her daughters and beloved grandchildren. She would listen about my worries about my children or life in general. And she’d inevitably make me feel better by adding her sense of humor and levity. And a simple reminder to not sweat the small stuff. When I stopped teaching to spend more time at home with my kids, there were a lot of things that I missed about teaching. Spending time with Anna Carol was up there on that list. I think the last time I saw her in person was when she attended my sister’s baby shower. I wish I could go back in time and enjoy that moment a bit more. If I knew it would have been the last time I was able to hug her, I would have held on a little longer. She gave the best hugs.
The picture I included was from my classroom. Anna Carol made little gingerbread ladies out of play doh as she played with the students. That's her with the cane, me in the middle with curls, and my co-worker in the red.
