The biblical David had his mighty men, whereas today’s children idolize super men and women or sports figures as their heroes.When I was a child, my hero was a most unlikely candidate. Agneswas my grandmother’s housekeeper who came to work for her whenI was four. Since Mom and I lived with my grandparents, Agnes became a part of my life.
In those days I was extremely shy and missed having a father in my life due to their divorce. I really needed a hero to save me from some of my childhood trials. Who could imagine that my rescuer would take the form of a middle-aged housekeeper? Her appearance did not inspire hero worship.
Besides being of diminutive stature, this spindly-legged woman looked at the world through thick spectacles. Her infrequent comments came through her ill-fitting false teeth. Not being classified as a beauty, Agnes’s mousy brown and graying hair was carefully placed beneath a hairnet. Arthritis kept her from being too quick on her feet, but sheer determination aided her in any necessary swift movements.
When Agnes first came to us, I reserved judgment of this slightly cantankerous household worker. If she did speak, it was with a thick nasal drawl: heavy on the R’s and light on the advanced vocabulary. Her words came out in dry puffs from thin lips she frequently licked with a small red tongue. Otherwise, she mumbled to herself and spoke to others infrequently.
Agnes and I had a live-and-let-live arrangement for the most part. Then one day, she totally surprised me. My friend LeAnn and I were playing hide and seek in the house. I was growing forlorn because LeAnn kept finding me. Imagine my surprise when Agnes swooped me up in her arthritic arms onto the top of the small refrigerator. Then she covered me with the window curtain located right over the fridge. I quietly giggled in my superior hiding place as LeAnn grew frustrated searching for me. That day I saw something rare and beautiful appear on Agnes’s face–a smile.
Agnes went out of her way to be my hero on other occasions as well. I returned home one day in tears over the neighboring dogs that barked and growled at me as I walked home. Thereafter, she made it a habit to wait for me beside this spot of terror to safely accompany me home. I’m sure that this was not part of her job description, but she had taken a welcome interest in my safety.
I think that besides being heroic, Agnes had a slightly mischievous side. LeAnn and I had reported having some trouble with one of my friend’s neighbors. His name was Tommy, a pudgy little freckle-faced redhead who delighted terrorizing us when we played outside my friend’s apartment. On the day in question, Agnes took it upon herself to once again take the role of my rescuer. Standing beside some lilac bushes, she was ready for Tommy’s next attack. She scared the life out of him when she scolded him. He went home crying, and 
yelling “Mommy, Mommy!” as Agnes and I triumphantly sauntered home.
As the years went by, I became more involved in elementary school and didn’t need Agnes’s assistance as much. In time to come, I would have a new hero-my stepfather who adopted me as his own. But, my heart will always hold a special place for that spitfire little housekeeper who came to my rescue when I needed a hero.
Dianna
Sharing the Fruit of Maturity
