Oh, Gladys!

On Sunday, I had a block of time to sand and sand my little ugly-but-soon-to-be-beautiful-chair-from-the-trash-heap. Every time I sand, I think of Gladys.

Gladys was a mom in my neighborhood when I was a teenager, and I was her kids' babysitter. She had five girls that I adored, so babysitting was way too much fun for me. Gladys had the prettiest house I had ever seen. It was reasonably clean and mostly orderly (especially considering there were five kids in the house!) and was just pretty. She had a way of putting things together. I loved being there.

As time went on, Gladys and her family took me in. They were the first people to actually take me to Church, week after week, for a long time. This family showed me a way of living that was completely different than what I had seen at home. I loved them.

When I was in college and totally broke, they put me to work one summer. I did a bunch of stuff around the house. Gladys had found a big old oak office desk somewhere, and she put sandpaper in my hand and showed me how to sand with the grain. After lots of sanding and some tung oil, she had a beautiful desk. Then we did the chair. Then I spray painted outdoor furniture. Then I painted walls. Then I did some other stuff. I didn't always do it well, but Gladys and her husband would patiently correct me (and sometimes my attitude.) That summer I learned so many skills that I still use today.

So, whenever I sand, I think of Gladys. I learned so much from her about being a mom and making a home. I learned things about working that helped me more than I can say. I learned much about God. I learned how to sand and paint and see what could be done with things other people were ready to throw away. Thanks for everything, Gladys.