Rhonda, still holding the note from the school in her hand, said.“I just wish I knew who was so generous.”
“Rhonda, I think that, whoever the benefactor is, it must be important to them to keep their identity private. “Giving her a hug, I continued, “Count your blessings. And someday you can do the same for someone else. ”
“Mom, you’re such a Pollyanna!But I sure would like to know. That’s a lot of money. I wrote a thank-you note and asked Mrs. Perkins to see that the donor receives it. ”
Several months later, near the end of the school year, Rhonda was dropping Rebekah off at my house to spend a couple of hours while she ran some quick errands. We said our good-byes as Rhonda hunted through her purse for her misplaced keys.
“Shoot, I forgot to sign and return this,” she said, retrieving an envelope. Greg had brought home a permission slip to attend a field trip. When she opened the enve- lope, a small piece of pink paper fell to the floor.
“What’s this?” I asked, picking up the paper and handing it to Rhonda.
Rhonda scanned the paper. “Mom, look,” she said as tears rolled down her face. “It was Christie, Christie Leeks. Someone in the Saint Francis office must have put this receipt in Greg’s envelope by mistake.” Christie was making monthly payments of $ 120 for Greg’s tuition.
Christie Leeks was a young girl who had been in Rhonda’s first dance class at the high school where she had taught five years earlier. Christie had lived in the Methodist Home as a ward of the state. Rhonda and Gil had taken Christie and another student who lived at the foster home under their wings. They invited them to their home for Sunday dinners, baked them birthday cakes, counseled and loved them. After two years, Rhonda and Gil moved to another city and new jobs. They lost contact with the other student, who had moved out of the country, but stayed in touch with Christie over the years. Rhond