We drew names for the exchange of gifts at our Christmas party. I was a bartender at an upscale restaurant & bar. Good folks and a ton of fun.

Miss Irma was a cook in the restaurant. Everyone loved her. She was patient and kind, always had something good to say. She was well past what many would consider retirement age. She had no business being on her feet all day in a hot kitchen, but she was raising several grandkids.

       Miss Irma drew my name. I’m mighty glad she did. While everyone else was unwrapping gimcracks and doo-dads, I opened Miss Irma’s card. It was old and faded; the glitter barely showed on the edges. Inside, Miss Irma wrote, “I’m sorry I could not buy you anything, but I will pray for you.” I kept the card until it fell apart and have treasured it ever since.  

       It hurt my heart that she felt it necessary to apologize. It cheered my heart, and does to this day, that she prayed for me.

       I believe Miss Irma’s prayers were powerful and first in line. Shortly thereafter, a series of events took place that launched me on a most fascinating journey, one that continues right on through—what time is it now? If you know me by way of being a colleague or student at a college or university, if we crossed paths at a conference, we would never have met, you would not be reading this now, if not for Miss Irma’s prayer. I believe that as firmly as I believe the sky is blue. Miss Irma could not buy me anything, so she gave me something that is not for sale. Something priceless.