Dear Mrs. Stokes

You may not remember me very well.  We attended DaySpring together for several years and our paths crossed briefly on several occasions.  I heard that you've moved to Mississippi to live in a retirement home near your daughter.  I remember you, quite vividly, and wanted you to know how much you've touched my life.

The first time we met, you caught my eyes across a crowded room and you face lit up with a gorgeous, beaming smile that only grew with each step you took toward me.  I felt so special, to be smiled at that way.  You took my hand in both of yours as we introduced ourselves, and you told me that you were so happy to meet me and to see me at DaySpring.  I knew you meant it, with every fiber of your being and I felt so welcomed and loved.  You made me feel like you were waiting for me, and I knew that DaySpring was the church home I had been waiting for.

Another time you called to me from across the parking lot as we were walking toward the front doors.  You beamed that brilliant, constant smile of yours as you complimented the sky-high heels I had on, and my ability to walk in them.  As I smiled back and waved, I realized I was walking even a little bit taller after your words.

One day, you joined my husband and I as we waited for our Sunday School class to arrive.  You sat down beside me, at the tiny table squeezed between a makeshift partition and the kitchen that served as our 4th-6th grade classroom.  You told us about your late husband and that same contagious smile spilled out the light of your deep love for him. Somehow, being witness to that love for that brief instant, taught me how to love my husband better.  You held my hand and you told us what it was like when you and the small group of founders first started DaySpring, the church that I now love so much.  Hearing your stories made me feel like I could be as strong and brave and courageous and faithful as you had been, and still are.  You patted my back and brushed my hair over my shoulders as you told me how I reminded you of your daughter, and how much you missed her.  I laughed and smiled back through eyes brimming with tears, because your touch and your dearness reminded me of how much I missed my own mother, and grandmother, and great-grandmother.  Your hug felt like a hug from them, one I needed very much.

Every single time you ever saw me, you always went out of your way to speak.  You always told me how very glad you were to see me, and I could see that you meant it, and I felt so loved.  You always smiled that magnificent, ever-present smile.  The one that drew everyone else straight to you.  The one that somehow always injected a kind of peace and joy and courage straight into my heart.  You always touched me, both physically and spiritually.  From the moment of that first smile, I knew we were and always would be fast friends.  So thank you, Katy Stokes, from the bottom of my heart.  I pray that I will learn to share love and light and joy, even half so well as you do.