Today...all across our great country...we remember. We remember a day...September 11, 2001...when thousands of ‘ordinary' men and women made the ‘extraordinary' decision to risk their own lives in order to save another. In doing so...they became heroes.
Today I remember...Betty Burgess Avery...my hero.
What is a hero?
Miriam Webster defines ‘hero' like this:
Etymology:
Latin heros, from Greek hērōs
1 a: a mythological or legendary figure often of divine descent endowed with great strength or ability b: an illustrious warrior c: a man admired for his achievements and noble qualities d: one that shows great courage 2 a: the principal male character in a literary or dramatic work b: the central figure in an event, period, or movement 3: an object of extreme admiration and devotion.
Because of our own perceived frailty...we (humans) seek heroes. When we cannot find them, we create them and give them supernatural powers to rescue us from the evil in the world. We refer to them as ‘superheroes' and make movies and comic books about them.
Personally, I've never been a big fan of ‘superheroes'...perhaps because I've been blessed with so many 'real' heroes in my life. My ‘super' man is my husband (Diego) and there is no greater ‘wonder' in the world than my own mother's love. I know...they are related to me. They HAVE to love me...RIGHT?
Betty Burgess Avery was NOT related to me. She was not obligated to love me. In fact, looking back...there was no reason for her to notice me at all. Betty Burgess Avery was a teacher...but she was not MY teacher. She was a counselor...but she was not MY counselor. Betty Avery was born into a wealthy, prestigious, Southern family, and I was born into a poor, uneducated family. She was an eloquent and refined wife of a young state official, with a promising future. I was a troublesome, thirteen year-old girl, wearing a mask of rebellion to hide my broken heart.
Growing up with an abusive, alcoholic father, I learned from a very early age to ‘cover-up' the scars...the ones on my face and the ones in my heart. When I was very young, I hid behind my big personality and even bigger smile. By the time I was a teen-ager, I decided that faking a smile was just not worth the effort. I had given up on people...and I was aware that most of them had given up on me. I reasoned that...IF I did not give any part of myself to anyone...no one would expect anything from me. It worked...until I met Betty Avery.
After being caught leaving the school campus without permission, I was ‘punished' and sent to Betty Avery's in-school suspension class for ten days. The only thing I remember from my first day in her class is hearing her say, "Students...you are here because you broke the rules, but you are not ‘trash'. My class is NOT the ‘GAR...bage' can." I did not look up when she was speaking, but I was listening to what she said.
Upon arriving to 'her' class the next morning, I saw 'her' sipping tea and reading the newspaper. Reading aloud, she focused on the news articles about violence and crime...asking us for our opinions about the things that had happened in the world. Without accusing or lecturing, she challenged me to evaluate the choices I was making about my life. Of course, I did not admit to 'her' or anyone else that my shell was cracking.
On the second day of in-school suspension, one of my teachers delivered all of my assignments for the next nine days. Having nothing else to distract me, I did my work...ALL of it. At the end of the day, I turned my completed work into ‘her' and asked what I would do for the remaining eight days. Something in ‘her' smile forewarned me that she had plans for me. Nothing in my face hinted that I cared...one way or the other.
The following morning...I plopped down in Betty Avery's class...my physical body present but my mind far, far away. As if someone was trying to wake me out of a deep sleep, I heard "Beth...which of these two books seems more interesting to you. Which one would you like to read?" She had selected two books with themes about teen-aged girls who were going through difficult times. It was the first moment that I knew...she saw behind my mask...she knew. I had not been able to hide from ‘her'...and I did not wish to hide any longer.
(This photo was taken during my last visit to Betty Avery's home. Mr. Avery sneaked in and snapped the photo. After Betty's death, he had it framed and delivered to me...with a letter telling me how special I was to Betty. This is one of my most treasured possessions.)
During the next week and a half, the crack in my façade grew wider...and Betty Avery found her way to my heart. After repeating many times, "Beth...you are special...you are strong"...I started to believe 'her'. I looked deeply into 'her' eyes and saw my own reflection...perhaps for the first time. IF she could love me...I thought...maybe I should try to love myself.
A few weeks after I left Betty Avery's in-school suspension class, she left school for maternity leave...her first baby. Insecure...I feared that once she had her baby she would forget about me, but she did not. She kept her promise that I would be Catherine's babysitter and allowed me to spend every other weekend with her at their home. Even though she was busy being a new mother, she stayed up half of the night talking to me...listening to me...encouraging me to believe in myself.
During the times that I was not with her...she wrote me letters and sent me books to read. Like little gifts from heaven, her letters always came when I felt the most fragile...reminding me that I was ‘special and strong'...that I could do anything I wanted to do...that she believed in me.
Just five months after God gave me this beautiful gift...my angel...my hero...a drunk driver took her away. Betty Burgess Avery and Catherine Avery, her infant daughter, were killed when their car was struck from behind by a drunk driver...sending them into the path of a semi-truck and other vehicles. Catherine died upon impact, and Betty Avery died the next morning.
In December 2007, I wrote I found some old letters...love letters... in honor of Betty Avery. At the end of that post, I wrote ‘her' one last letter...
Dear Mrs. Avery,
I found some old letters today...your letters...your love letters to a broken, 13 year-old girl. How did you know how desperately I needed to hear those words...as I never found the courage to tell you how much pain was trapped inside of my heart...how much I hurt. Somehow...you just knew.
Remember those nights when we stayed up all night long talking? I wanted to tell you everything, but I could not find the words. I even wrote you many letters that I never sent. I was afraid that you would not be able to love me if you knew the ‘real' me. I could not risk losing your love, because it was the most important thing in my life.
The day 
that I learned of your death was one of the darkest days of my life. I did not want to face the world without you behind me, cheering me on. I almost gave up that day...but once again...you rescued me. I kept hearing your words..."You are so special. I see great things in you, Beth. I wish you could see what I see."
In that moment, I made a choice to believe your voice instead of all the other voices that told me that I was worthless...unlovable...unnecessary. I wanted to prove to the world that you were right...that you did not waste the final five months of your life...that your life and your love changed the world (at least my world).
Throughout the past 28 years, your voice has always been with me...still reminding me that I am special...still cheering me on. When life is hard, and I am tempted to give up...I remember that you never gave up on me. In every moment of victory...I pause and remember you...and wish I could celebrate it with you. I know you would be proud of me...
Before I close...I want to tell you one more thing. You gave me so much...but I did not have anything to give you in return. In 1987, I gave you a very special gift...I named my first daughter after you... ‘Avery Elizabeth'. She knows why she is named after you, and she wears your name so beautifully and so proudly. Although she never knew you, she loves you...just as I love you.
Until we meet in Heaven....
Your Beth
'THANK YOU'...by Ray Boltz.
Written and Posted by:
Elizabeth Nieves - Broker, REALTOR® -- The Elizabeth Nieves Realty Group @ Keller Williams (A Bilingual Real Estate Team serving Raleigh, Durham, Chapel Hill NC and surrounding areas.)
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