Hunker Down With Kes: What A Friend We Have In Miss Floy

I believe with all my heart this story today is universal. I am going to tell you about a lady who turned aside for me…when she didn’t have to. As I unwind it for you, you think of the Miss Floy in your life….

Floy Coleman was young. And beautiful. I met her when I was eight years old. She was barely 20. Mom got her coming to church with us. And lots of Sunday evenings, after church, she would take Miss Floy out to the Dairy Bar. I would ride along because ice cream was involved.

Miss Floy would talk to me on these trips like I was a regular person. And believe me, not every grownup treated me that’a way. Nobody was mean to me you understand. They just were so busy with their adult stuff.

Not Miss Floy!

I was important to her from the very beginning. Gosh, she laughed so easily. She would lean down to be close to me when we talked. Like I was an important person too! And she would even give me a hug when we let her out at her house.

Mom, Granny, and a couple of aunts were the only people who loved me enough to actually hug me. And I can tell you with all honesty, I was not the most huggable guy around when I was eight years old.

Miss Floy made an impression on me from the very beginning. But I’m only getting started here….

She went to working at the church. I believe she was Brother Hatcher’s secretary. And please understand, this is not necessarily about church. It is way beyond that. But a big part of the story did unfold in a small, windowless, concrete block classroom in the basement of the church. At night.

Probably the most overlooked aspect of our church was the Training Union. It was the hour before the Sunday evening service. It was not as well attended as Sunday School. And, as a small church, they had problems finding willing “souls” to come back at night and teach me and David Mark, Ruth Ann Wiley, Pam Collins, Billy Thompson, LaRenda Bradfield…. 

Enter Miss Floy. We didn’t know why she chose our class. Or how the church, or someone, persuaded her to teach us. But you talk about the break of a lifetime for the children in that room. 

Everybody criticized the old Training Union material. Too dry. Not interesting. Not “modern.” Boring. The lessons were broken up into sections about some Biblical character or event. There were usually five or six “points” covered.

We began each night by singing “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” It was the only song Miss Floy could play on the piano. I’m telling you with my hand up, we sang it every Sunday night for five years!

She would assign each of us one of the sections to read, give us a few minutes to collect our thoughts and then have us explain our understanding of the passage. I was scared to death. Until about the 27th time I did it.

It didn’t matter if it was Ezekiel prophesizing in Babylon or Daniel in the Lions’ Den, Miss Floy would be nodding in agreement and telling us what a good job we did. You talk about a most refreshing and long-lasting positive influence on our lives.

Miss Floy was in your corner no matter what!

I learned that my thoughts, my interpretation of whatever I was reporting on at the moment could be correct, and meaningful. She just nodded, smiled and encouraged you to be you. Your thoughts mattered to Miss Floy! If she approved, then why not the whole world! I had a voice!  

She should have been dating on Sunday nights. Not putting up with us! We used to marvel at that. And somehow along the way our marveling turned into appreciation. And it is a short hop, as you know, from appreciation to love.

We were young, immature, silly, puffed up by our own pride, and way too concerned with earthly things, but we were not stupid. We understood full well that part of the love we shared for Miss Floy, was because she first loved us!

Miss Barbara Clark, in high school English, assigned me to give a report on Charles Dickens’ “Great Expectations.” It was a snap after you had explained Ezekiel for Miss Floy. It was the same with a Mahatma Gandhi term paper in college.

Miss Floy’s belief in me, gave me belief in me.

She eventually married and moved over to Parsons, or someplace like that. I did not ever see her again. But I never forgot her. What a lasting touch the good ones leave with you….

When I saw the very early morning email from her niece, my heart stopped. I knew before I opened it Miss Floy had gained her wings. As I read the message that confirmed her homegoing, I began to cry…and subconsciously started humming “What a Friend….”

It is to this very day, my all-time favorite song.

Respectfully,
Kes
kesley45@aol.com