What Will We Leave Behind?

Over the weekend I participated in an unusual funeral. For one thing it was the biggest and longest funeral I ever attended, For me, it was odd that I had never met the deceased or his family, live two-hundred miles away, yet was asked to participate in the service.
V. T. Rector (and here) lived most of his life in Washington County VA. He was an educator. I first became aware of Mr. Rector when my son was a high school runner. At some of the big cross-country meets and regional and state track meets my son and V. T.'s daughter, Kelly, ran in the same meet. As a dad who tried to support my boy's athletic efforts, I was incredibly impressed with Rector's over-the-top enthusiasm in cheering for his daughter. I wrote a story about his cheering. Originally, I had no intention of sharing the story with the family. I even changed the name from Kelly to "Cary." When I wrote the story I didn't even know her dad's name. I simply referred to him as "Run Kelly Run." A year or so later, knowing nothing more than a name, I sent a copy of the story to the state track meet. "If you see Kelly Rector, or her family, give this to one of them."
Email correspondence, especially from Mrs. Rector, made known that I had been privileged to observe a characteristic that marked much of V. T.'s life--he was a major encourager.
That fact was eloquently confirmed at the Memorial Service. Family, friends, co-workers, and former students all spoke of the power of a smile, a hug, and encouraging word, or a meaningful gift given at an opportune time. (The newspaper article referenced above gives some of the testimonials.)

God and people are eternal--God always has been; people live forever going forward from their beginning. The Bible asks a question about our world. After pointing out that "all these things are to be destroyed," (emphasis mine) Peter asks, " . . . what sort of people ought you to be in holy conduct and godliness . . . ? (2 Peter 3:11)
Part--maybe all--of the answer has to be that we invest in that which is eternal, and people are part of that.

After an almost three-hour service I had no idea what kind of car Rector drove. I don't know how much money he left, or whether his mortgage was paid off or not. No one spoke of his immaculate, or shabby, yard. Whether he graduated Magna Cum Laude or Barely-Made-It-Through appeared to be irrelevant. What did matter, what people remembered, was that he had invested himself in people's life in such a way that it helped them become better people.
I never really met him, but he helped me to do so.

It's STTA.



Run Cary/Kelly Run