. 

          Angie lay on her bed enjoying the first free afternoon she’d had in weeks, well months, really. With all the stress of finals followed by the excitement of graduation and the parties that followed, life had been hectic. In less than three months, she’d be travelling 600 miles from home to attend college.

          She was never one to let life pass her by. A few months ago, she’d written a list of the things she wanted to do when she finally reached the summer. She grabbed her journal and read through the list, smiling as she went. Hit the beach with friends, stroll around the lake, get milkshakes at her favorite burger joint… She stopped reading at #7. Visit Mrs. Wilkens.

          Her mind flew back to her fourth grade Sunday School teacher. She was a tiny woman, barely taller than her students, but she knew how to make the stories come alive. Angie truly understood the heart of Jesus after spending the year with Mrs. Wilkens. One Sunday came to mind.

          “How many of you have collections?” Mrs. Wilkens asked. Nearly all the students raised their hands.

          “I have a rock collection,” said Tommy.

          “I have a seashell collection,” Madeline said. “Every summer we go to the beach.”

          “I’m collecting all the different state quarters,” said Dylan. “My dad lets me look through his loose change, and if I find one I don’t have, he lets me keep it.”

          Mrs. Wilkens smiled at the children as they each shared the stories of their special collections. “What about you, Angie? Do you have a collection?”

          Angie giggled. “I collect stuffed animals. My mom says there’s not room for me in my bed, but they’re my friends. What’s your collection, Mrs. Wilkens?”

          Mrs. Wilkens’ eyes gleamed. “I have a special collection. It’s the most important thing I could collect, and I’ve been working on it my entire life.”

          Eighteen pairs of eyes focused on their teacher. Eighteen mouths all chattered nearly the same thing. “What’s your collection? Tell us about it. Can you show us a picture?”

          Mrs. Wilkens held out a hand, and the class quieted. “I promise I will show you my collection, but not in a picture. It’s too big to show you in a picture. You’ll have to come to my house to see it.” The kids started chattering again, but Mrs. Wilkens waited for silence. “Here is my promise to you. If you come visit me after you graduate from high school, I will show you my collection.”

          The excitement in the room turned to disappointment as the children counted the cost. Eight years was a long time to wait for something as inconsequential as a collection. Mrs. Wilkens soon dove into a Bible story. For most of the kids, that day would fade from memory. Not for Angie. Mrs. Wilkens was her inspiration. Angie’s plans involved graduating from a Christian college and majoring in education. She wanted to make the Bible, and every subject she taught, come alive the way Mrs. Wilkens did. And if her collection had something to do with her success, Angie was going to find out what it was.

          With her parents at work and her shift at the library not starting until 3, Angie had some time to kill. Embarrassed that at age 18 she still didn’t have a car, she swung a leg over her bike and made the trip across town to Mrs. Wilkens’ neighborhood. She’d been here once before with her mother. They’d dropped off meals a few years ago when Mrs. Wilken had broken her hip, but Angie never made it past the front room. Even then, she imagined the whole house filled with Mrs. Wilkens’ collection, and a stab of disappointment shot through her when she saw nothing out of the ordinary. She thought she’d seen a gleam in Mrs. Wilkens’ eye when she caught her searching the room, but her former teacher never said a word.

          Angie creaked open the gate and wheeled her bike to the tiny porch. Leaning the bike on the railing, she climbed the two front steps and rang the doorbell.

          Moments later, Mrs. Wilkens drew the door open. Her eyes sparkled as she gazed up at Angie. “Angela Parker. So very good to see you. Come in. I’ve baked cookies for the occasion.”

          Angie wrinkled her brow. “What occasion?”

          “Why, your visit, of course,” Mrs. Wilkens replied.

          “But how could you have known I was coming?”

          “Ahh, it’s that time of year. I always make sure I have cookies ready in June for my visitors.” She waved Angie into the house. “Congratulations on your graduation, dear. I’m eager to hear your plans, but not as eager as you are, I suppose, to see my collection.”
           “Well, I have been thinking about it for quite a while,” Angie admitted.

          “Then it’s time.” Without another word, Mrs. Wilkens led Angie through the small living room where she and her mother had visited when they dropped off the meals. They passed through her kitchen where, true to her word, the aroma of chocolate-chip cookies permeated the air. When they turned the corner, Angie stood in an otherwise ordinary room, but the walls were filled with hundreds of photographs. Angie made her way around the room. The photos were organized by year. Each year contained a class photo, presumably of fourth-graders, and underneath, photos of individuals who were much older. A card under each photo listed a biography. She read the first card aloud.

Roger Stephens. Father of two – Shannon and Robert. Executive at Chief Financial. Church elder, volunteers at Habitat for Humanity and does free financial counselling at the halfway house.

          Angie turned towards Mrs. Wilkens, whose eyes were on her. “I don’t understand.”

          “No?” Mrs. Wilkens said. “This is my collection, dear. Every year I teach my students how to accept Christ into their lives. And these,” she swept her hand around the room indicating the multitude of photos, “are the ones who did so.” She moved into the room, her hand caressing the faces. “I may not do much anymore,” Mrs. Wilkens said, “but I will add to my collection as long as I have breath in my lungs. You see, I’m collecting souls for heaven.”

           Tears sprang to Angie’s eyes as she moved further around the room, recognizing names of many of the adults in their church. Toward the far end of the room, she found the picture of her own fourth grade class, and below it, pictures of two of her former classmates. She lifted her eyes and Mrs. Wilkens met her questioning gaze.

          “Jana and Tom visited me last week. Tom is joining the military, and Jana plans to go to medical school one day.” Mrs. Wilkens answered Angie’s unspoken question. “Will you bring me a picture?”

          The implication in the question was clear. “Yes, Mrs. Wilkens. I’m a part of your collection.”

Matthew 28: 18-20  

Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.  Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

God, thank You for those in our lives who cared enough to share Your love with us. Help us to do our parts to bring others to You.