It's Those Little Gifts Left on Our Path

High School for me was about fitting in, being accepted by my peers, having fun, and finding a comfortable safe place for myself out of harm's way.  It had little to do with getting an education, acquiring good grades, or preparing myself for college.  My parent's came from poverty, so to them a high school diploma was as good as it gets. When a school counselor called me into her office to discuss a curriculum that would put me on the path to college, I told her all I aspired to be in life was a secretary, a wife and a mother.  College was not for me. But as has happened so many times in my seventy years, fate put someone in front of me who unwittingly altered my plans and my future in so many positive ways.

Becky Harper was beautiful but she was not aware of it. Or, if she was, she did not let on. She wore no makeup and her black hair was naturally curly and rarely combed. She could have had any boyfriend she wanted--Mike, Bobby, Gary, Gary, and Johnny all wanted to date her--but that also didn't matter to Becky. Her focus was on education, getting straight A's, going to college, and living up to the high standards and expectations she had established for herself. Unlike so many other girls in our class, her beauty was not her sole focus, and she would never allow it to be her "free pass" to an easier life. 

It was 1960's, the decade of change. It was a time when the youth of America questioned the status quo of the established authority. They said, "Do it our way and don't ask why," but we said, "Nope! Ain't gonna do it your way because your way is wrong. Your way doesn't make any sense to us."  Actually, that was Becky who said that, not me. I was too consumed with my own self interests to concern myself about what was going on outside of my small world. I just wanted my pimples to go away. Becky wanted to save the world, to right the wrongs, to fix what was broken ; I wanted to save Mike Nickels' Juicy Fruit gum wrapper that he had left behind in Spanish class and put it in my scrapbook.

Acting silly, telling stupid jokes, always seeking fun was my way of coping with my underlying angst about my looks, and it was also the common denominator in my friendship with Becky. With the weight of the world's problems on her shoulders, letting loose and having fun was at times essential for Becky's mental stability. Enter me. I was there to accommodate that need. As it turned out, she wasn't happy about her looks either. Imagine that. She couldn't understand why any boy would be interested in her, but she spent very little time thinking about it. The world was waiting for her; it needed saving.

When people talk about the one person in school who made a difference, who changed the trajectory of their life, most of the time it's a teacher. For me, it was Becky Harper, but it took forty-three years and a death before I realized it. 

Six years ago on March 18, 2010, I received a blanket email announcing the death of my friend, a friend I had let slip away over the years.  Biliary duct cancer silently crept up on her and when it was discovered it was too late.  Within months she passed away; she was sixty-three.

It wasn't until I sat down several days later to write about my friend that I realized the part Becky played in my life. She had become my role model, my mentor. She inspired me to stretch myself beyond my comfort zone to be all that I could be. By her actions that impressed me so much, I began to follow her lead. She became an airline stewardess to earn money for college. I became an airline stewardess to find a pilot husband. She went to college, so I took one class so I could say I went to college. She earned a degree, so I took another college class and a funny thing happened: I discovered I love to learn. My college degree was twenty years away but I never gave up because Becky unwittingly taught me that if I was tenacious and worked hard to achieve something I wanted, it would come. 

It's those little gifts left on our path in life that make such a big difference, but at the time we have no clue of their importance. That's how it was back then. Becky was a gift and I had no clue.