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Autumn leaves drifted down on a sunny Saturday morning in
late October 1985. I stood watching our children through a
sliding glass door in the house where we were temporarily
staying. Rachel, three, was rolling in the leaves, while
Tim, six, was busily making piles with a rake. Noticing me
standing there, Tim came over to the door.
"Mom, did you see the big pile of leaves I made?" he asked,
a grin spreading across his face.
"Yes, I've been watching you," I said. "You're doing a great
job."
I was glad to see the two of them playing and acting like
normal children. All the changes they had been through in
the past three weeks had taken their toll, making Tim and
Rachel confused and fearful.
Three weeks earlier, my critically ill husband, Dennis, our
two children and I had boarded a plane in the Philippines
where we had been doing mission work. Now we were half a
world away in Minnesota. Tim, Rachel and I had stayed with
various family members while my husband was hospitalized for
open-heart surgery.
A mechanical heart valve now clicked loudly in Dennis's
chest. Diagnosed with congestive heart failure and given
just a few weeks to live, he now had a new lease on life.
Throughout the ordeal, we had seen God's provision
for us in unexpected ways. This house where we were now
staying was one of these provisions. Del and Louise, a
couple from our church whom we knew only slightly, had
graciously opened their home to us.
After ten days with them, we would be moving into a
house-sitting situation in another suburb.
Del and Louise's house was in a Minneapolis suburb where we
knew no one -- a fact which made what happened the next
Monday all the more remarkable.
A former teacher, Louise was concerned that Tim was missing
school. After three weeks away from school, he was showing
little interest in his reading and math workbooks.
"Tim needs structure to his days," Louise told me that
Saturday morning. "I know the principal at the elementary
school, and I've arranged for Tim to attend there on
Monday."
"Do you think that's a good idea for such a short time?" I
asked. "After all, he will soon be attending a different
school."
Louise assured me that school was the best place for Tim.
Later that afternoon, as I thought over the plan, I wondered
how Tim would fit in. Would it be another traumatic
experience for him? Would the teacher feel resentful having
a student for only a few days?
That evening when I told Tim that he would be going to
school on Monday, he was not thrilled by the prospect.
"Mommy, I don't want to go school," he pleaded, fear showing
in his brown eyes. "I want to stay here with you."
That night I wrestled with the issue. "Lord, show me that
I'm doing the right thing in sending Tim to school," I
prayed. "He's been through so many changes already."
After breakfast on Monday, Tim, Rachel and I got into the
car with Louise, who drove us to the nearby school. She
introduced me to the principal and then stood by the office
holding Rachel's hand to keep her from following us. The
principal, Tim and I walked down the hall to the first-grade
classroom.
"Miss Nibbe is good with children," the principal assured
me, tapping lightly at the doorway of the open classroom.
"I'm sure she'll make Tim feel right at home. I've already
arranged with her for Tim to join her class."
A pleasant woman about my age came to the doorway. After the
principal introduced us to her as "Tim and his mother, Mrs.
Seever," Miss Nibbe turned to me. "I know you," she
said. "You're Jan."
I was stunned. "How did you know?" I gasped.
The principal looked dumbfounded.
"Your husband used to be active in our singles' Bible study
group about ten years ago," explained Miss Nibbe. "The group
still meets. When a couple of our group members
heard that Dennis was critically ill in the Philippines, we
all started praying for him. We've been praying for your
family since that time."
Then she turned to her class, "I want you to meet Tim, who
has been living in a country which is far away. The country
is called the Philippines."
"Andy, Joel and Christy," she said to several students near
the front of the room, "please show Tim the art project
you're working on."
Tim was already happily absorbed in activity by the time I
left.
As the principal and I walked down the hallway, he turned to
me. "How did she know who you were?" He repeated the
question several times, not quite believing what he heard.
After I got back to the house, I found the get well card
Dennis had received from the Bible study group. One of the
people who had signed that card was indeed Marilyn
Nibbe. And yes, Dennis did remember her.
"Thanks, Lord," I later prayed, "for showing me that you
were taking care of us all the time. Thanks for providing a
teacher who understands Tim's needs perfectly and for the
wonderful 'coincidence' of her knowing Dennis. In more ways
than one, she is exactly the right teacher."
?© 2002 Janet Seever
jseever1 @ shaw.ca
The mother of two adult children, Janet Seever lives in
Calgary, Alberta, Canada, with her husband, Dennis. She
writes for Word Alive magazine and has had articles
published previously on in magazines and on the Web. You can
reach her at jseever1@shaw.ca or read more of her writing at
www.inscribe.org/janetseever
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To read archived stories, click on this link:
http://archives.zinester.com/9516/2004
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Blessings to you today
Bob Johnston
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