Ken Cole was my first preacher ever. He was the one who taught me that Jesus loves me and all the other things that I child learns about God and faith. It was hard to find a picture of him, but I finally did in my mother’s scrap books.
I have since lost touch with him since we moved from Ruidoso and then from Midland. I am pretty sure he moved as well. I wish that I could find him and reconnect.
Because of this man, I wanted to get up and go to church. I did not want to go to children’s church, but instead I would sit on the end of the pew, so I could lean out and see around all the big hair and men’s hats in front of me and listen to him. He is the person who made me want to give all of my money, usually consisting of mostly copper coins, to the church to help others. He put the first fire in my heart for my Lord and for my fellow-man. He helped teach me right from wrong. And although I can’t remember any exact words of wisdom or an exact moment that he influenced my life, his name and face peppers the first part and the most influential years of my life.
Thank you for teaching me the foundation of my Father and his ways, for molding me into a person that loves thy neighbor, for giving me the ability to have faith in that which is unseen.
Genevieve lived down the street from us in Ruidoso and was one of the few elders that I called by her first name. Many of you know that I often talk about having long silver hair down to my waist when I am older and wearing it in a bun. This is the lady that I am basing my hairstyle on when I am 80.
Genevieve was kind and mild and not only could I never think of something ill against her, I don’t thnk that anyone else in our village could either. She loved her neighbors, loved her God and treated me as an adult, even when my age had not left the single digits.
She was patient and she was kind and she took careful time to make things perfect and nice for those she loved, be it a bridge party or a pot luck.
When Nick and I married, it had been at least 2 years since I had seen Genevieve. She had left Ruidoso to be closer to her family, as most her age were doing.
Still, she found a person to take her, to find us the perfect gift, and just like Genevieve, it was nothing on our registry, but instead something that she found to be beautiful and to be something that I would love and treasure.
Please, come to our home and season your meal with the love from the salt and pepper shakers that she wanted us to have.
Just as the shakers give flavor and zest to our food, Genevieve Duncan gave the same to her life and the loves around her.
Rehersal Dinner with the girls
High School Trip to Houston
What happens in the stall, stays in the stall
Helping me with my make up before the next photo op.
She always had the best handwriting, and the best drawings, and the best laugh that was so contagious. Seventeen and one half years after we met, she still does.
Amy doesn’t even need lemons to make lemonade. She could do it out of rotten potatoes. She is laid back and care free; a side of myself that I would like to get in touch with again.
We met in 1992 at San Jacinto Junior High. I don’t remember the details, but if any of you do, I would love to be reminded. We have camped, floated rivers, eaten drank, smoked cigars, rolled down hills, climbed on buildings, sang in harmony, gone to proms, gone to science fairs, believed in unicorns, gotten dolled up, eaten cookie dough and done countless other things that I can’t mention because one of us might still be grounded from our indiscretions as minors.
Amy is a ray of sunshine, put on this earth to help others and to bring light into the lives of those around her. She is beautifully blessed in so many ways, and she knows it. She is thankful for what she has and the promise of what is to come. She treats everyone as equals. There is no one better or worse than the next person.
I hope one day, to be as genuinely gracious and kind as Mrs. Amy Marie.