One of our sweet big girls, D, came downstairs and asked me if I'd mail a letter. She made me guess whom she had written. I guessed Mimi, Grandmama, and her godmother. I was wrong on all accounts. D handed me the letter with a little smile and I began to read it. I also began to cry. I mailed the letter, but I made a copy of it before I sent it. It was just that precious. She wrote this letter to Libby, the Senior Director of Camp Greystone, whose husband, Jim, or Jimdaddy, died suddenly last Friday. Jimdaddy was one of the most amazing men I've ever known. He was the epitome of a gentleman and always encouraged others to love the Lord first and to purpose to have a GREAT day every single day. He will be missed. D wrote a letter to his wife, Libby, totally on her own. Precious. Here it is:
Dear Libby,
I'm sorry that Jimdaddy died. I really miss him. I have been a Greystone girl for 3 years. I'm eight years old. My mommy, Mama Henley, cooks at Greystone. I remember all the fun stories Jimdaddy told. My mommy is really sad that she could not come to Greystone. She cried at dinner the other night that she could not come to Greystone. Hope you have a great day today,
Love,
D
I thought it was just precious that she was precocious enough to know that you write someone a letter when someone they love dies. She also knew exactly what to say to comfort Libby. I, of course, DID cry at dinner. It was one of those nights where it was really hard to live so far away from the Old North State. Florida is just too far for me to drive by myself and the flights didn't cooperate, so I couldn't go to the funeral. And I was very sad.
