Something happened yesterday. You’re probably thinking something happened at church. Well, you’re wrong, this happened at school.
On March 5, 1993, a Friday, I wrote something in my first Book of Days about a woman named Mrs. Nance. She was my chemistry teacher then. I would not have given her that letting, sharing the gospel with her, if I did not know she was dying of cancer. No one ever knew if she was a Christian or not. We all just knew she was a firm believer in evolution and not creation. She’s had cancer for a long time and during my junior year she would be out for weeks at a time. I liked it when that happened because we didn’t actually have to do chemistry when the substitute teacher was there. I hated chemistry with a passion; it was so confusing.
Mrs. Nance often talked about dying. She talked about how much money and pain it was costing her just to stay alive a little longer. Once day a student asked her if she considered quitting and not spending the money to pay for all the chemotherapy and just let it all go.
She said, “No, I will do whatever it takes to stay here as long as I can. I’m not ready to go yet and I will stay with my husband and my song as long as I can.”
Two weeks ago, Mrs. Nance left school. The doctor had given her two weeks left to live. She looked so pitiful; her skin was yellow.
We got word yesterday that she passed away.
Mrs. Nance is dead.
In Spanish, Mr. Benton read this poem: