PEOPLE
LIKE REBECCA
By Pauletta
Raines
When asked to
write a one-page
article about
Rebecca, I said,
"Sure, I can do
that." After
all, my training
and experience
are as a
journalist. But
as I've tried to
put words on the
page, I've found
that there's an
indefinable
something about
Rebecca that
slows my fingers
on the keyboard.
When I look at
Beck, I see a
plus-sized woman
with short dark
hair, moving
slowly through
life, often
carrying two or
three bags: one
for her 12-Step
books and a
handful of
markers, one for
her lunch, and
one for "her
stuff." Rebecca
has presence.
She says hello
to nearly
everyone
she encounters.
Depending on the
group and
circumstance,
she's either an
outgoing,
enthusiastic
friend-to-all or
a respectful,
steadying
influence during
times of stress
or sadness.
Among family and
friends, her
warm hugs are
legendary.
Rebecca lives in
an apartment in
West Wichita and
catches the city
bus early each
weekday morning
for her job at
the Kansas Elks
Training Center
for the
Handicapped,
where she works
as a candlemaker.
Candlemaking
isn't her only
skill; she also
contributes in
other work
projects, such
as assembling
notebook binders
for corporations
and putting
together
training kits
for special
education
teachers. On
some days, she
comes home
smelling like
the air
fresheners she's
been making all
day.
Rebecca's
learning
disabilities
weren't
diagnosed until
she was nearly
5, because they
were subtle.
Developmentally
delayed, she
began attending
special
education
classes from
Kindergarten
through ninth
grade in her
hometown of
Colby. Moving to
Wichita in 1989
with her mom was
traumatic, but
the transition
to Wichita
Northwest High
School proved a
good stepping
stone when she
entered into
"the real
world." With
assistance from
family, friends
and social
services
agencies,
Rebecca
transitioned
after her 1992
graduation into
an independent
lifestyle that
she's maintained
since 1993.
As a child, Beck
was slow to
begin talking,
but today, she's
not at all shy
about speaking
up - whether for
herself, or for
someone else. A
phone is never
far from her
reach. When the
department phone
rings, her tone
is all business:
"Candles,
Rebecca
speaking." Just
after 5 p.m.,
her voice is
end-of-the-day
tired when she
checks in with
her Mom or her
sister, just to
ask, "Hi,
whatchadoin'?"
She positively
bellows at
sporting events,
but can
transform her
demeanor in a
nanosecond to a
smile and a
gentle coo when
she sees a baby,
whether
two-legged, or
the furry,
four-legged
kind.
People like
Rebecca bring
out the best in
the rest of us.
I recognize her
as one of the
most important
teachers in my
life. Having her
around always
reminds me to be
grateful and to
accept my many
blessings. Every
day, she
illustrates the
principle of
doing the best
you can with
what you have to
work with.
Without saying a
word, she calls
me to be kinder
and more gentle,
even toward
myself. She
epitomizes the
live-and-let-live
philosophy that
leads us all to
a better, more
peaceful world.
People like
Rebecca. What a
blessing she is;
what a Presence.
