September, a time for new beginnings. Fall coming on, school starting, even new classes in Sunday School. When I look outside I see the leaves beginning to color a beautiful picture around our home.

I do not adapt well to changes in my life, such as my routine in my work or home. I do look forward to the seasons changing. Having children starting back to school has been a long time past for me. This month I've had lots of memories to flood my mind. I am remembering school days when our three girls were still home. There was always exciting things going on at our home, especially this time of year.

One of the first assignments for Debbie, our youngest, in September of 1969 was to bring a picture of something that had really made an impression on her. She came in and talked and talked about it. We went through all kind of pictures we had and she could not settle on anything. Finally, after a week or so I just left it to her and put it out of my mind.

Later in the year she gave me a paper she had written on something she had seen. The grade was excellent and with lots of comments by the teacher. I would like to share this with our readers. I have her hand written pages so I will copy from them just as she wrote.

I do not have a picture to show or to turn in. Instead, I have one that only I can see because actually it is only a remembrance of something I saw a long time ago.

One Christmas, our Girl Scout Troop visited a home for retarded children. None of us girls really knew the reason we were going, because we had never been around retarded people. Truthfully, we were only excited because we were all going off together rather than thinking of why we were going.

When we arrived at the home and were singing, I remember feeling very frightened and could hardly speak. I felt so weak I think this was a type fear very few people have felt. I felt like loving the children and yet almost like hurting them at the same time. I wanted to be very close to then and to understand why they were the ones making the funny noises, beating their heads against the wall, and drooling on themselves instead of I who was standing there before them with no troubles at all with my mind and body.

I wanted to run as far away as I could, anywhere to get away from those strange feelings I had. While at the same time I felt a love so great for those children that I could have stayed with them forever just to be near them and to help in some small way to make their lives happier ones.

I'm sorry I didn't bring a picture to describe, but I think the one I have told about here is much more important to me than any one I could have brought from a photo album.

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I keep this original paper in her handwriting in a special place. It is signed Debbie Darby, September 5, 1969, English III, Miss Eakins, (the teacher.)

Debbie died in February of 1970. I have many beautiful memories of her. Just recently the Lord allowed me a beautiful dream of her and we were talking and laughing like we did many years ago.

Thanks for allowing me to share with you. This is one process of healing.

Charles & Datha Darby
Christ Centered