{Straight From the Heart} *Bessie* 3/8/00
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"Bessie"
By: Virginia Ellis
When I was a little girl, I used to visit my
grandmother in a small New England town during
summer vacations from school. My grandmother
had a wonderful, somewhat older, neighbor who
never drove a car, but instead bicycled everywhere
she went. Each morning, Bessie, as she was
affectionately called by her many friends, was in the
habit of riding her bicycle fifteen miles round trip to
the market. A large, wire basket attached to the
bike's handle bars provided a way for her to
transport her groceries home.
On her daily trip, Bessie always took the same route,
which she happily called her scenic route, for it was
down a narrow dirt road, through a small grove of
willows, along side a picturesque creek. Very few
others ever used the road, and it was pretty much
thought of as Bessie's route.
I knew about the route because she used to let me
accompany her on my own bike as long as I could keep
up with her, would keep my mouth shut, and would not
try to engage her in conversation. Those were her
conditions. She said, if I talked to her, then she could
not hear her "God-talk". To Bessie, her God-talk meant
hearing God speak to her through the singing of the
birds, the babbling of the little creek, and the rustling of
the wind through the willows. I abided by her rules, and
learned to enjoy the peace and tranquillity of those quiet,
early morning bike rides.
As I got older, I began to understand better what
Bessie meant by her God-talks, and I used to think
I could hear God speaking as I rode along beside her.
These bicycle rides became one of the highlights of
my summer visits to my grandmother's house, which
continued on throughout my teenage years.
When I reached college age, I no longer spent my
summer vacations at my grandmother's house, and as
years passed, I spent less and less time there. I became
busy of course, pursuing the usual adult desires for
career, marriage, children, home, family, etc.
After many years, my sweet grandmother passed away,
and the responsibility of settling her estate fell on my
shoulders. This necessitated my return to her home and
the scenes of those wonderful childhood vacations. It
was not without a lot of nostalgia that I sorted through my
grandmother's things and revisited the old haunts I had
loved and treasured so many years before.
The bicycle route that Bessie and I used to travel had
now become a six-lane highway; the country creek had
dried up and disappeared; the willow grove had been
replaced with new, modern condominiums. As I drove
down Bessie's old route in my car - no more bike - I
could not help but wonder about old Bessie, who, if she
was still alive, would be in her nineties.
I wondered if she had been around when her beautiful
bicycle route was done away with and, if so, what she
had done about the loss of her God-talks. She would
have missed those so....
I parked my car on a side street and walked over to
her old house. Though somewhat dilapidated and badly
in need of a coat of paint, it was still there. As I
approached the front porch, the sight that met my eyes
was almost unbelievable. For there was Bessie in one
corner of the porch, perched on a stationary bicycle,
slowly and determinedly moving her feet up and down
on its pedals. Bless her heart, she was still bike riding.
I called "Bessie!" She did not turn her head to my voice.
As I came closer, I saw, through the flying wisps of her
snow white hair, two hearing aids, one affixed to either
side of her head. Oh, dear, I thought sadly, even if
her route had still been intact, poor Bessie could no
longer hear her beloved God-talks.
Rounding the corner of the porch, I saw there was a
book stretched open across the center of the bike's
handle bars. It was propped up and supported by
Bessie's left hand. Her right hand was securely holding
on to the right handle bar for her own support. The
book appeared to have a black, pliable cover, and
there was no doubt what book it was. Of course, it
was Bessie's Bible. I felt a lump in my throat, and tears
brimmed over my eyes.
Once more, I loudly called, "Bessie!" She looked over
the top of her glasses at me, and I saw the recognition
in her eyes. Then she smiled, removed her hand from
the Bible, raised her index finger to her now pursed lips,
and said quite audibly, "Sh-h-h". I knew at once she
was listening to her God-talks.
I smiled back, quietly sat down on her front steps
and waited patiently for her to finish her trip. I still
remembered the rules. I wouldn't have interrupted
her God-talks for anything.
© Virginia Ellis
thumby1@flash.net
Send Virginia an email and let her know what you thought of her story!
A little bit about Virginia:
I live in Southern California, and I truly am 75 years old today. T
he highlight of my life experiences occurred in 1991, when I received
my BA from California State University, Dominguez Hills at the age of
66. My claim to fame was in raising the age average of my graduating
class substantially. (LOL) I write mostly poetry - very little prose
- and have written more this past year because I have had more free
time. I consider myself ninety-percent retired. The now-working
ten-percent of me is spent in the accounting field, where the one
hundred percent of me used to be. I think I must have a split
personality, because no one has ever heard of a "poetic accountant."
Want to read more of her writing? Check out the links below!
http://www.geocities.com/Heartland/Creek/7984/Index.html
http://members.aol.com/mempenny4/ginny.html
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Thought For The Day:
"If you were given a nickname descriptive of your character, would
you be proud of it?"
Verse for the Day:
"A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches..."
Proverbs 22:1
Kid's Thought For The day:
"If it's going to be two against one, make sure you are not the one."
Parent's Thought For The Day
"Insanity is hereditary - you get it from your kids.
-Sam Levinson
Coach's Thought For The Day
"Talent is overrated. You win with character."
-Lewis Shaffel
Deep Thought For The Day:
"Now I herd everything."
-Noah, while the animals were boarding the Ark
_
/_/\/\ MICHAEL T. POWERS
\_\ / THUNDER27@aol.com http://members.aol.com/Thunder27/index.html
/_/ \ "For I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but
\_\/\ \ Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body I live for the Son
\_\/ of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me." Galatians 2:20
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