Novelist Charles Dickens said, “Father Time is not always a hard parent, and, though he tarries for none of his children, often lays his hand lightly upon those who have used him well; making them old men and women inexorably enough, but leaving their hearts and spirits young…. With such people the gray head is but the impression of the old fellow’s hand in giving them his blessing, and every wrinkle but a notch in the quiet calendar of a well-spent life.”
While attending the fiftieth reunion of Leland High School’s class of 1961, I saw the imprint of the old fellow’s hand. We men had potbellies, faces migrating chin-ward, and pates either shiny bald or sparsely covered with hoary plumage. Among the old gang’s distaff side, girdles restrained adipose, and cosmetics concealed wrinkles. But Father Time has left our hearts and spirits young.
Before going our separate ways, we stood for a class photograph. Afterward, I kissed the ladies, hugged the men, climbed into my pickup for the long drive home, and let the tears flow.
I realized how rich my life has been because of my classmates. They were my playmates at recess; they were my teammates when the Fighting Cubs joined battle with worthy opponents; they were my brothers and sisters when we lined up to receive our diplomas from Dr. J. T. Hall, the man whose strong hand disciplined us when necessary, but also forged within us the courage and determination to face life and make the most of it.
Perhaps some of us won’t be there for the next class photograph, but that possibility didn’t cause tears to course down my wrinkled old face. Those were tears of joy!
While thinking about how blessed I am to be part of that class, I pondered what has kept us so close. The fact that there were only about fifty of us is part, but not all, of the answer.
The next morning in church, the preacher’s sermon, which focused on chapter seventeen of Jeremiah, gave me the rest of the answer. Our class is analogous to the tree mentioned in verse eight, which says, “ … planted by the waters … spreadeth out her roots by the river, and shall not see when heat cometh, but her leaf shall be green; and shall not be careful in the year of drought, neither shall cease from yielding fruit.”
Our teachers saw to it that we recited the Pledge of Allegiance as the flag was raised. They bowed with us as we prayed each morning, and with us, asked God to protect our athletes when they stepped onto the field of competition.
They were of one mind with America’s first president, who said, “It is impossible to rightly govern … without God and the Bible.”
We class members will always be close because we were governed within those same two guideposts. Our principal and teachers made sure that, like that tree, we were … planted by the waters….
Jimmy Reed is an Oxford, Mississippi resident, Ole Miss and Delta State University alumnus, Vietnam Era Army Veteran, former Mississippi Delta cotton farmer and ginner, author, and retired college teacher.
This story is a selection from Jimmy Reed’s latest book, entitled The Jaybird Tales.
Copies, including personalized autographs, can be reserved by notifying the author via email (.(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)).
