A Lady-in-Training

Years ago, I had an Aunt Anice. She wore a silver fur stole, carried Chicklet gum in her bag, and arrived in our tiny town once a month from Kansas City… by bus! She wasn’t actually a blood relative. In those days, we children referred to all the older members of our church as uncles and aunts. I’m sorry we dropped that habit, because some of the best parts of me come from trying to emulate people like Aunt Anice, Aunt Nola, and Uncle Clyde.

The trait I wish I’d inherited from Aunt Anice is refinement. I have this whole other picture of myself in my mind. I’m a country gentlewoman, living in a pristine white cottage among eternally golden trees. (It’s always fall in this game). I write books, speak at conferences, host grandchildren, eat fresh baked bread with my handsome husband, and revel in Kingdom of God conversations with all my good friends, while simultaneoulsy feeding the poor and serving the widows and orphans.

The reality of this picture is this: I like to wear tennis shoes. And I spend way more time filing insurance claims and answering phones than I do writing books. I tend to blurt out what I’m thinking instead of speaking with eloquence, and I don’t even know how to bake bread. (I do have the handsome husband, thank you, Lord!)

Yet, I keep the picture in my mind. It exemplifies a quietness of soul which I long for, and which I occasionally touch. Even in my tennis shoes and hectic life. This refined lady is someone I carry inside, always aiming to be more like her, always hoping to attain to her stature someday. Always trying to touch other people with the graciousness and mercy such women have contributed to my life.

So, I’m thinking of Aunt Anice today. And I’m wondering if she would be surprised what an impact her life had on a little girl who only knew her through occasional visits and rare conversations. I can’t remember anything she ever said to me. I don’t really know a thing about her life. But I remember how the air changed when she entered the room. And I remember the aroma was pleasant.