Miss Helen Wright, Lover of All

Welcome back to the Table, Friends! The world might define us as "losers," but at this Table, all our chairs and tea glasses are the same height, and One Who loves you does the leveling. (Even if you don't believe in God or what I just said, you can keep your chair--no prerequisite courses needed for that. Everybody is hungry at some point in the Day.)

I am struck with the image of every chair and tea glass being the same height. It reminds me of a poem I wrote to a famous poet, Billy Collins, after hearing his reading his poetry and his autographing a book for me:

Ode to Billy (not Joe) Collins

In my hands I hold the book of your poems
Where you wrote my name on the title page
Almost as big as yours.

What does that say about you? I wondered,
Having only heard you speak and read poems
For about the past hour,

not including the minute it took
for you to sign the books
my friend Karen bought for me.

Does my name size mean
That you count me
Almost as important as you?

Or were you just exhausted, weakened
from all the energy meted out
One-two-three syllables at a time?

You are funny, you must know,
Inviting guffaws,
Not polite twittering.

I wanted to shout, "BRAVO!" at the end of "Litany"
And "MOMMA!" when "Lanyard" evoked silence
Remembering the atomic strength love
Laid six-feet beneath Alabama sod.

Your eyes were engaging while chatting with me
Surprisingly I was uncomfortable with your fame,
Speaking to me like we would have a beer sometimes

where you make our small circle laugh
and all our names the same size
as our beer glasses.
(June 29, 2009)

Miss Helen was famous, no doubt about it. Because she had taken time for many individuals during a forty-year span and even those folks had moved all over the world, Miss Helen and her stories were held like treasures--and so was she. I remember one day while visiting her in her room on the assisted care hall of the Fairhaven Retirement Home in Birmingham, Alabama. Her eyes got big and she exclaimed, "Rose! I just have to tell you something that just happened, something that the Lord did!"

I knew when she began like that, which she almost always did, I was in for an amazing story of wondrous proportions and spine-tingling details, even if the narrative centered around needing a few more thank you notes and their being provided in an uncanny way. Friends, that's how Miss Helen saw all the details of her life: planned out, provided for, and surrounded by the sovereign God of Heaven.

That particular day Miss Helen said:
"I was told someone would be picking me up at 6:30 that evening. I said I wasn't going
anywhere because I didn't go out at night. I was told to be ready because that night I was
going out. Well, I was taken to Briarwood Presbyterian Church, and my driver and I were taken
all the way to the second row from the front--and the place was packed! I was wet from being
rained on, so water was dripping off my hair. I was a sight, for sure."

"I had no sooner gotten seated, when I heard the speaker say my name! I about had a heart
attack! I thought, 'W-h-a-t?! This man is Oriental, and I don't even know who he is!" Well, he
said he was from Korea, and his son had just had his first baby girl. When the man asked his
son what was the daughter's name, he was expecting a wonderful Korean name. However,
the son replied, 'Her name is Helen.'

'Helen!' the man exclaimed. "What kind of Korean name is that?!' The son replied, 'I wanted
to name my daughter after the woman who changed my life when I was in Birmingham,
attending Southeastern Bible College--Miss Helen Wright.'"

"Rose, then the man looked down at me and said, "And so, Miss Helen, that is why I asked
for you to be brought here tonight, so I could thank you for helping my son and to meet my
granddaughter's namesake."

Miss Helen exclaimed, "Rose, there were hundreds of people at this Foreign Missions'
Conference, and they began to clap--for me! And there I was, dripping wet from the rain!
Afterward, there were more folks in line to speak with me than Billy Kim, the speaker!"

Then Miss Helen asked me a question that had become a tradition at the end of her stories,
"Rose, can you beat that!" to which I would reply, "No, ma'am, no, ma'am I can't."

In 2002 I went to Korea to speak to a women's conference for military wives and female soldiers. Because of my friendship with Miss Helen, I had the privilege of meeting Dr. Billy Kim at his Far East Broadcasting Company in Seoul (www.febc.net). Dr. Kim himself escorted my party through the facility. Although I am relatively certain this distinguished pastor does not drink beer, his kind treatment of me said our beer glasses would be the same size.

And Miss Helen? No way was she an imbiber of distilled grains. However, for the twenty-five years we were friends, this amazing lady never once made me feel less spiritual than she--although I was by a mile. In her presence there was no question our chairs were the same height--even if she had to do a little sawing to make me believe it.

Once she asked me if I thought God heard my prayers. I hemmed-hawed around (Southern lingo for "stalled") and finally said, "No." She followed up with, "Do you think He hears mine?"

Immediately I replied, "Yeah! Sure!" Woefully inadequate vocabulary aside, I was rock-solid sure God heard the prayers of the little 4'11", 98 pound spiritual heavyweight standing in front of me. I will never forget her response to me, "Well, since you don't believe God hears your prayers, don't you pray. I will pray for you because I know He hears mine."

Although one might think that sounds like criticism, it was not. It was simply the truth. To be honest, at that moment I didn't want to be praying for myself when Miss Helen was willing to pray for me! Across the living room from me, Miss Helen knelt beside her coffee table and began to pray. I could barely hear her. I remember wondering, "Do I just watch while she prays? Will God hold it against me? Will it work if she prays and I don't?"

Miss Helen had just spent the last hour writing down all the things that were bothering me; so not long after she had started praying, she took those yellow pieces of paper out of her Bible and laid them on the table in front of her. "Father, since I know that You hear me, I am giving all these burdens of RoseAnne's to You. I know that You will take them and then take care of each concern and problem. Thank You for hearing me, In Jesus' Name, Amen."

The small giant stood, walked over to me, thanked me for coming, and then escorted me to the door. As the door shut behind me, I wondered, "What was that all about?!" However, I felt light and free, maybe for the first time in my whole life ( I was twenty-eight at the time). The next day I was on my favorite jogging road near Homewood High School, where I also taught. The darkness began to close in again. A familiar, internal wound began to be poked. After a moment, I realized that the aforementioned wound was listed on the yellow pieces of paper that Miss Helen had given to God on my behalf.

To noone who could be seen I said, "Listen, that was on that yellow piece of paper, so you need to take it up with God!" It was like the darkness that had been threatening to engulf me was blown away. I didn't have any more personal faith in God than the day before, but I surefire believed in Miss Helen's faith--and at that moment, that was plenty good for me.

Looks like the cinnamon rolls are all gone, and we're all out of iced tea. I'll go into the kitchen to make some more; but while you're waiting, why don't you ponder whether or not you believe God hears and answers your prayers. Once I sit down again, you may have some yellow pieces of paper you need to get off your chest. Since I have come to know that God hears and answers my prayers, maybe then we can fill more than just your tea glass--although at this table, they are all the same size.