Preacher, I want you to bless me

When I was working as a substitute teacher at the Junior High in Channelview, Texas, I often worked with a ESL (English as a Second Language) teacher named Ms. Marraquin. She was a short, opinionated, loud, no nonsense teacher from the “old days.” She walked with a cane, which you were never sure she used to balance herself or threaten you with. The kids were intimidated by her and most of the time so was I .  I liked her a lot, she reminded me of the teachers I had when I was in school and discipline was a part of education not a dirty word that would get you sued by parents or the ACLU. 

One day as we talking in the hallway before school started she said, “It's my birthday today.” 

“Well happy birthday”, I said. 

“Preacher, I want you to bless me on my birthday.” she looked up at me demanding more than asking. 

I was taken by surprise. I can honestly say I've never spoken a blessing on anyone, after all I was a Baptist pastor not a Catholic priest. 

“I'm a Baptist, Ms. Marraquin.” I squirmed. “We don't really do that.”  

“What do you mean you don't? You're a man of God, aren't you?” she looked up at me with a firm determined gaze.  

Not wanting to sound ignorant and at the same time not wanting to get into a discussion about all the differences between Catholics and Baptists before the tardy bell rang I said, “You know I can say a prayer for you and ask God to bless you.” 

“That will be fine.” she said in a quiet kind of triumph. So we bowed our heads while the kids in the hall flowed by us and the tardy bell began to ring and I asked God to bless Ms. Marraquin. And I wondered as I prayed, why didn't I offer to do this without this fearsome yet sweet teacher having to ask me. 

I guess you never get to the place where you're to old to learn especially from a teacher like Ms. Marriquin. If she ever reads this then I hope it is another blessing to her from me and the Lord.