I attend a small church with an older congregation. I could find somewhere with hipper music, a younger crowd, and a more contemporary style, but I don't. Though we don't necessarily see eye to eye on every nitty-gritty philosophy, they're still lovely, compassionate people who are wonderful.
One of my dearest friends at church is a retired teacher named Jean. Despite the difference in our age and generation, Jean and I have become friends and I'm often reminded to be thankful for the privilege of knowing her.
Jean wears her heart on her sleeve; there is no pretense with her, no facade. She is also a wellspring of encouragement. We've often chatted at some length about teaching and its rewards and challenges, as well as other bits and pieces of "regular life". At these times, I'm always struck by her honesty, her candor, and her disinterest in putting on the appearance of "having it all together and knowing it all". That's something very admirable.
Jean just had a little non-fiction book published locally and I'm looking forward to reading it both as a historical account of a local figure and as a window into the writing mind of a wonderful woman.
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