It begins with a note written in blue ballpoint, the script small, the delicate loops and curves only hinting at a quaver. She’s read my newspaper column about practicing the Sabbath and has written to offer encouragement. The following month I receive a second note, and the month after that a third. Each is signed the same way: Your sister in Christ, Virginia.
I write back each time, just a quick note of thanks. This last time, I ask if she’d like to have coffee sometime. I assure her I’m not creepy or a stalker.
Two days later I open the mailbox to find an invitation to a Valentine’s Tea. And so, on Sunday afternoon, Noah and I drive to the retirement complex. We’ve been asked to bring a tea cup, and I know immediately which one I’ll take. It sits on my bedroom dresser next to her silver tray: Nana’s Royal Albert bone china cup and saucer, the pink one with the pastel roses, edges rimmed in gold. Nana had a full set of china teacups, all of them different, but this was the one I always chose. She’d fill it with tea, and with the miniature silver tongs I’d pluck sugar cubes from the footed bowl and drop them one by one into the china cup. When I lifted the rim to my lips, Nana would remind me to sip not slurp and hold my pinkie finger in the air, “like a lady.”
Virginia greets Noah and me at the door. She’s wearing a bright red cardigan, a navy blue skirt and hose. Her white hair is curled and styled. I’m underdressed in jeans, and I’ve forgotten to wear red. Noah grips a black Doane College coffee mug – he’d balked against the “girly” teacup – and I cringe at his sneakers, which are caked with dried mud. “You must be Michelle,” she says, and I clasp my teacup and saucer in one hand as I embrace her at the doorway to the dining room. “This young lady writes for the paper,” she tells to her sister and sister-in-law, and I laugh a little, explaining, “Well only once a month.”
We sit in folding chairs, at long tables covered in vibrant table runners and festooned with flowers and hearts. Noah and I select the green mint tea, and I think of Nana when I hold the handle of my cup with two fingers, my pinkie in the air. We share the stories of our teacups, and I piece together bits of Virginia’s life – Nebraska-born farm girl, Seventh Day Adventist, devoted wife to George, who is down the hall in their first-floor apartment. She’s in her mid-80s, but could easily pass for 70, with her twinkling eyes and neatly coiffed hair.
“We’ll have a ‘cuppa’ sometime – you have my number,” Virginia reminds before I leave. I bend down and quickly kiss her soft cheek. “I look forward to it,” I tell her. “I’ll call you soon.”
As we head out the front doors and into the frigid air, Noah and I both have more spring in our step. It might be the caffeine…or maybe it’s simply from meeting Virginia.
thanks for this brightness today….
Oh how wonderful – she made your day and I know you and Noah made her day!
I love the simplicity of this kindness…”a cup of cold water/tea”…is mighty in His upside down kingdom.
Mighty, indeed – how right you are, Ro.
What a delightful story, Jennifer. See? You just never know whose out there reading your wonderful words, do you? Virginia sounds like such a sweet lady and, no doubt, as you continue to see her and keep in touch, will add a wealth of wisdom and love into your life. We all need a ‘Virginia’.
Thank you for this, Michelle. Brightened my grey winter day!
a few tears sprung to my eyes… what a precious moment in time, spun with sweet memories!
A beautiful story . . . so heartwarming on this cold winter day!
Blessings, Michelle!
Oh Michelle I loved this. It is exactly what I have been trying to encourage on my blog. Except I was going from the other direction reaching out to someone just like Virginia. How amazing that she was thoughtful to write and then invite you for tea. So sweet. Thank you so much for sharing this and the community.
Your a Blessing,
Sherry
Aren’t you glad you went?
Beautiful Michelle. It reminds me of tea shared with my great-grandmother……and the tea of fellowship that I have so enjoyed sharing with many octo- and nano-genarians, whom I consider beloved friends. I love older women (men, too!), and I think it’s so special to spend have an experience of “tea and sympathy” in their beloved company. It’s really so much more than tea, isn’t it? What a special treat to share with Noah, too. It’s so important for young people to know the treaure that older people can be in their lives.
Blessings,
Lynn
Now I have that Train song in my head!
I can’t wait to…meet Virginia….
http://youtu.be/sDIFD6for4A
heehee. I love this playdate, Michelle. These are the kinds of things that take bravery in my world. Beautiful.
Lovely story!
A note of encouragement over a shared vision + actionable thankfulness + an invitation + a cup of tea = a budding friendship.
Such a simple equation for a powerful outcome. I forget how easy it CAN be to make a connection – all it takes is two people willing to reach further than the little world they’re living in. What a valuable example for Noah (and all of us) you’ve demonstrated. Thank you.
what a lovely way to spend time with Virginia…I bet you made her day, Michelle, and it looks like you and Noah were also blessed 🙂
I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face if I tried. Such a lovely piece of writing, and so rich with fun details. I loved the line about “the young lady writing for the paper.” …
So … Has that other frequent reader of yours invited you to tea yet? You know the one. 🙂