A Rose for Ms. Lewis

I have to admit that I was one of those people who longed for retirement quite a few years before I should have. I could picture myself on the front porch of my home in the deep South, sitting in a rocking chair with a glass of iced tea beside me. I would read books from sunup until sunset like Robert Morgan's heroine in his poem "White Autumn." One of the aspects I had forgotten, however, about the deep South is that the weather is hardly appropriate for sitting out all day. After a summer with several highs of 104 degrees in July, I spent much of it not on the front porch but inside in the deliciously cool air-conditioned retirement home that my husband and I purchased a year ago. My retirement fantasies also changed recently when I met Ms. Lewis.

Being new to the area of Little Rock, I have gotten involved in a new church, Trinity Cathedral. After becoming somewhat bored with the innumerable CSI and Law and Order episodes every night on TV, I decided it was time to throw the books down and become involved in "the work of the world." That work is to look outside myself and to look to the needs of others. Shortly before Christmas a call went out for help at St. Francis house, a facility that provides food for the hungry, commodities from the government, gifts for the poor at Christmas, and even a health clinic. When I called, someone informed me that Ms. Lewis was in charge of the gifts program and that, yes, she could use additional help in preparing for the food and gift giveaway on Dec. 22 and 23.

I tapped on the door lightly on the second floor of St. Francis house. Ms. Lewis opened the door, took me into the "wrapping room" loaded with numerous gifts, paper, tape, and scissors, and let me commence working. Ms. Lewis is 81 year old. She told me she had been a staff member there for years but had been retired for a number of years also. She now donates her time to the organization for the sake of others. She has been in charge of this event for thirty-eight, "going on thirty-nine" years she told me. Evidently her husband died when she was fairly young, leaving her with two seventeen-year-old teenagers still to raise. She shared with me her excitement about going to Chicago after Christmas to be with her daughter and to celebrate Kwanzaa.

The next week I went back, along with my eight-year-old granddaughter, Caitlyn, and her friend Corinne to assist in the gift giveaway. Ms. Lewis had everything organized to a "t" as we say. Weeks earlier people had signed up for the gifts and food and been given a number. On this day, they brought their number to a door to have their names checked off the list. They then brought their stamped number to us to receive the groceries and wrapped gifts. All went as planned until perhaps the gifts could not be located for a family. Caitlyn said this was the worst part. Ms. Lewis, however, promised the gifts later if the family would return the next day. She wrote the numbers down either to locate the gifts or to wrap new gifts.

I often think of Faulkner's famous story A Rose for Emily since I taught it to students in English II for years. Faulkner gave the lead character Emily a symbolic rose or tribute for killing a man she loved. A better tribute, in my opinion, would be one to Ms. Lewis, who tirelessly gives of herself year after year to bring life and joy to her little community in south Little Rock. Caitlyn said she would go back next year. She considered the best part to be handing out the gifts to the families and saying, "Merry Christmas."