Miss Agnes, The Lady In Red

As one ages there are more memories than new experiences which add to our list of past memories. A life well lived will provide good memories; the ones that make us smile and laugh, or bring a tender, happy tear to our eyes. Yesterday something I saw brought about such a memory to me. My wife and I were stationed at the main entrance of our church to thank any guests for worshipping with us and to invite them to return. We also bid farewell to the members as they departed.

Most of the seven hundred plus congregation had gone when I noticed a lady walking up the center aisle of the sanctuary coming my way. She wore a bright red hat and a long bright red coat. She was absolutely stunning; a bit older than me, a lovely gracious woman and well spoken. Immediately, one of those memories from my early boyhood years flooded my heart. I waited for the lady in red to get to me so I could tell her how she had carried me back 65 years to my home town.

I said to her, “I want to tell you how you have ignited a very pleasant memory from my early years growing up in Russellville Kentucky.” I complimented her on her red attire. The memory was that of a lady everyone called Miss Agnes. I called her the red lady when I was very young. Every time my mother took me to town I would ask her if we could see the red lady. Miss Agnes wore nothing but bright red clothes-red dress, red shoes, red hat, red coat, never any other color. I shared all of this with the lovely lady in red. Surprisingly she knew about Russellville. I laughed when she told me that most of her clothes were bright red. She seemed happy that I told her about the other red lady, Miss Agnes.

I suppose that experience touched me the way it did because of how my mother encouraged the wonder and excitement I felt about seeing that wonderful lady in red. Those simple moments a child spends with a loving parent remain, sometimes, hidden away somewhere in the heart and emerge even seventy years later to bring a smile and perhaps a tear. Miss Agnes was a foundational part of the bustling little town I remember. I am so thankful that I knew and now remember the old Russellville of the 1940’s 50’s and 60’s.