Whistlin' Dixie

I have always believed that God puts people on our paths when He needs them to be there and for His reason. I've met some remarkable people during my life, about some of whom I wondered what God was thinking, and others about whom I thanked God for thinking about me.

One of those people is Dixie, one of the most warm, welcoming, supportive, and loving people ever to be on my path. Last night, Dixie popped into my classroom, carrying a coffee shop bag from which emanated the smell of freshly-brewed coffee. You know how there are times when your brain says, "Man, wish I had a cup of coffee," but there is no way to step out and get one? That's when Dixie popped her head into the room.

Dixie celebrated both her 65th birthday and her 50th wedding anniversary last semester, accomplishments for which we all strive. Yes, she married her sweetheart when she was 15 years of age, has raised 5 children, and enjoys the high and lows of life by standing strongly in her faith. She radiates love and joy, but her life has not been easy: she simply chooses to put her time, effort, and energy into the joys life has to share with her, rather than worrying about what isn't there. Her peaches and cream complexion is creased with life lines, but her sparkly blue eyes shine with joy. I'm jealous of her glorious crown of grey-going-pure white hair, a feature that cinches her uncanny resemblance to the queen of the kitchen, Paula Deen.

When I met Dixie, I pointed out that absolutely no-duh resemblance to one of my favorite TV cooking hosts, and Dixie assured me that I could call her Paula and she'd answer, taking it as a compliment that I linked her to one of my favorite TV cooking shows. Dixie loved that we shared the cooking bond that not so many women share in these days of fast-food drive-through windows and dashboard dining. In our off-hours, we reminisced about cooking and family, recalling not just special meals, but the sights, the sounds, and the smells of holiday celebrations that centered in the kitchen. When I told her about my g'ma's Christmas fruitcake that my mom made every year, Paula said, "Send me the recipe and I'll make it for you!" We also both knew about "war cake," the eggless, milkless, butterless cakey bread that women made during the rationing program vital to conserving food resources during WW II. Yep, Dixie made the rich, dark, raisin and nut laden bread, too, not because we were fighting a war, but because she knew how to get a lot of mileage out of a restricted food budget.

Dixie brought the class treats at Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas--wonderful, steaming hot baked treats. Her recipe for a Thanksgiving pumpkin dish was so delicious that I shared it with all of my Friday Friends, who not just loved the dish, but shared it with their other friends. Dixie is like that: infectious and wonderful to share. As I've been wondering if it's time to step to the side so the younger generation can stand behind my podium, Dixie praises my joy in doing my job, assuring me that I'm not too old to relate to the students filling the seats this semester -- or next. It's challenging to know when it is time to walk away, but I don't feel finished with my career inside, especially when Dixie tells me that I can still teach and make a difference. I've signed on for another year.

I'm glad that God, by whatever name, is still putting people in my path, especially all the wonderful people like Dixie. Being Dixie, when I thanked her for bringing me coffee last night, she laughed that rich, robust laugh of hers. She reminded me that we all met after class last semester for coffee and an extra-large French fries, our class "office hours," and she misses that time together.

That's so Dixie, and so God putting another special person on my path.