Oh Miss S.

What a time it’s been.

I haven’t thought if you much since then.  In the end, as fall semester in James House wore on, I was moving into acute paranoid stress psychosis.  Your worst nightmares were true.  I thought of harming you.  I won’t say it all even here because it would probably get me into trouble even now.  I blamed you for ruining my time at Hutton for “protecting” me when i should have been allowed to fail out, for your own self-serving reasons.  I wished I had gone sonewhere else to school to avoid you.  Now i see all those critical moments in life differently–‘like when you walked into the room Freshman year, or rather when my father walked in and you were there, he knew your father, and that put an impasse between you and me, because of what was between me and him.

There are about a dozen critical monents like in my life that i have dwelt on, some more than others.  Finally I am able to take the wisdom that was always offered:  it all passed through God’s hands.  I may not have understood that then, but i do now.

Miss S., i hope and pray that on your journey you have found Christian faith.  I am in the delightful position of choosing whether to accept as valid or reject as not God honoring a lifetime full of reflections for which your mental example was the foil.   You had an unending influence which strengthened me, for the good or for the ill I  see I finally have the space to discern.  I’ve been on a locomotive out if control I last saw you.

It’s shocking what happened to me, and unfortunately a lot has gone around that is untrue or distorted, and my parents are responsible for the half truths.

Im tired of typing, Miss S. God bless you and keep you, i dont want your enmity, i dont need the crutch you gave me any more, i guess I still used it l through the years.  It feels to me as i sit here I this little room under the eves typing, that that was what God intended afte all.

“From those to whom much is given, much is expected. ”


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