She was just done being a baby and I was almost done being a
girl when I met Ashley Walker. Fair hair and large blue eyes, all of us almost
teenage girls wanted to hold the adorable toddler. And as toddlers often have
an affinity for the people who are not quite grown up yet, she’d sit on my lap
during the worship time at my parents’ small group. Occasionally, her mom would
me hire me and I’d babysit. Then little Ashley and her family moved to
Oregon—the modern day Oregon Trail where California transplants sought out new and
better opportunities. Land!
We visited, my sister and I, in our late teenage years, it
was our first independent plane flight and Ashley’s mom made sure we had a
grand time: snow-boarding, new youth groups, dinner out, the toboggan run. By
this time Ashley had turned into a little girl, who loved nuns and star wars. (I’m
sure her husband is glad she gave up her determined ambition to take the
habit). Her fair hair was longer, but her eyes were still blue, and she talked
like a miniature grown-up.
I went to college, England, returned, and taught. I’d just
began dating my now husband when I learned that Ashley was getting married.
Married? Ashley? The little girl I baby-sat? Soon after, the beautiful, young
bride announced that she was becoming a mother. Nine months later, Quincy Kercher
came. The large blue eyes, on baby Quincy ruffled past memories of those other
blue eyes.
I wouldn’t become a mother for another year, but how
beautiful it was to see glimpses of the life of young Ashley as a mom. The little
girl I knew had grown up. She had a daughter of her own.
Then when my own daughter was born, I realized there are
strands that link mothers in solidarity both young and old. We are members of a
group of keepers, determined to protect the little ones in our care. We desire
to help them see, to watch them flourish, to teach them. To someday witness
them grown up and serving God.
I was pregnant when I last saw Ashley. A woman now, she was
full of vivacity. Her hair, darkened, was stylishly done. And what a good
mother she made.
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