The Fergusons

My dad is doing a side job at the Ferguson's house. I've known them since I was probably just a few weeks old because they are friends of my grandparents' and attend El Cajon Wesleyan. Cathy has always been so sweet, as has John. But I have never really sat down and talked to either of them before.
My mom stopped by and I decided to tag along. And I'm really glad I did.
Cathy invited us in for iced tea. Best iced tea. I'm generally not a huge fan, really. And when she poured a tall class for me I was regretting saying I wanted some. But by the end of that glass I wanted more.
The four of us sat down at the round wooden kitchen table. We talked about my schooling, future plans, church, future quest, the youth at ECWC, my brother, the Bridge pool party, and Dorothy Robertson. I don't know how long we sat there and chatted but it seemed to fly by and I was kind of sad when we made our way out.
In the truck on the way home my mom said, She's such a sweet lady. Then, I want to be like her when I grow up.
And it's true. She's one of the sweetest ladies. I sat there listening and watching her. Because that's what I do. And what a humble, meek spirit. She makes you feel important, worthy of her time...even though the thought of time imposition never crosses your mind while in her presence. She has such a quiet, confident spirit that is so refreshing. She sat there just asking my mom and I questions. Simple, easy questions but the way she asked and the way she sat and looked at us and talked with us showed she really cared. I can't even explain it. But what a wonderful lady!
And this experience gives me hope. In the beginning of the day I was feeling slightly condemned. Just...a little more hopeless. A little more un-enough hah. But there I felt just fine. And I felt more like being a better person just by being there.
Does that make any sense? I don't know. But it was a great end of a turbulent day.