Marian's Legacy--Part 1

Over the past two weeks, during one of the times at my desk in school when thoughts of Marian brought fleeting tears, I pulled out a Post-it notepad and jotted down a list of things I wanted to ponder further and write about at some point.  The list, which got tucked immediately into my purse, named challenges/hurdles/sacrifices that Marian faced and survived and even triumphed over.  I want the rest of the people in my world to know about these things and to remember them also, perhaps to draw courage for their own challenges, to glorify God for His care for His children, to strengthen resolve for choosing what is right, or to develop a caring heart for others who struggle.  I hope to be as discrete as necessary, and protective of Marian's legacy.

Those who learned to know Marian only during the last part of her life could hardly know how far she had come in her personal journey, and what her progress had cost her.  I'm sure I don't know all of it either, but I did see right into her heart many times, and struggled with her, as did others--a few others.
On a number of occasions, when Marian needed to communicate something in writing, particularly to someone in an official capacity, she and I worked out a trade.  I did the writing, and she paid me by cleaning my house.  Doing this writing necessitated making very sure I understood what she wanted to say, and I heard many details in the process of writing down her thoughts.

One of Marian's hurdles was dyslexia.  I use that term with more confidence in relation to her than any of her teachers did in the past, to  my knowledge.  Marian told me herself that she's sure she fits in that learning-disability category.  In the process of finding help for one of the "daughters" she helped raise, Marian learned about the characteristics of dyslexia, and she saw that it fit her situation precisely.  Yet she faithfully read to the children in her care, and repeatedly searched out and read also books that helped her understand spiritual, emotional, and cognitive problems.  I read some of these books at her recommendation, and they were serious books on complicated problems, containing many stories, which she remembered and could repeat afterward.

When it came to reading instructions on a package of wallpaper paste or a medicine or food supplement package, however, she often gave up before she started.  "I can read something like this, and not know a thing it says when I'm done," she would say.  "You read it and tell me what I need to know."  That was Marian--humility without excuses, perseverance when doing so could make a child happy, or provide insight into another person's struggle.

I often marveled at Marian's fearlessness in making necessary contact with others who had information, resources, or services that Marian needed, or that someone she loved needed.  In those pursuits, she had conversations with pastors, counselors, law enforcement personnel, tutors, educators, social services providers, mental health professionals, lawyers, doctors, nurses, musicians, and people in various ministries.  She often talked to her friends and family too, and learned from them.  Marian was humble enough to ask for help.

Marian's desire to serve also put her in contact with a very different spectrum of society--children from abusive or negligent families, people in poverty, in repeating cycles of destructive personal choices, in distressing personal situations, and those with multiple disabilities.  Although she sometimes felt exhausted by these needs, she carried dreams of more that she might be able to do some day--taking care of prison babies, for example.

When she inherited a piece of land from her father, Marian traded it for an old two-story house no one else saw a future for, and set about having it repaired and restored.  She spent many hours doing a lot of the interior work herself.  In her dreams, it became a refuge for troubled individuals--people who needed a place of healing and peace.  For now, the house is home to a young family from our church, a function that does not necessarily preclude Marian's dream becoming a reality some day.

Marian exited school as soon as it was legally possible, after finishing eighth grade, nine years after entering first grade.  (I think I'm remembering right that she repeated a grade.)  Dyslexia, however, could not prevent Marian from living a purposeful, productive, anointed life.  From my perspective, with the grace of God in her life, Marian appears to have been perfectly equipped to do the work God called her to, with competence, kindness, grace, and humility.

I loved Marian for all this, and more, and miss her every day.  I was, after all, one of the needy people Marian reached out to, and one of the people she blessed.