Tea with Alice in Wonderland

Something magical happens when two women get together and share a meal, a cup of coffee or maybe a cup of tea. I think it is even safe to say that more magic happens when those two women share the same interests, especially in their beliefs about God. But let’s go a bit further and add a 50 year age gap between the  two women. What would happen in that setting? Do you think this would enhance the moment or leave the two friends sitting across from each other worlds apart? When I was in my late 20’s, I was a newlywed and attended a big church in Germantown, Maryland. This church was made up of mostly 30-something couples with children, all except for the Schmidts. The Schmidts were our “token” elderly couple. Their names were Walter and Alice. My first real encounter with Alice was in the halls of my church. Flying by after the service, I was stopped by a firm grip on my arm. I swung around to see who it was. The strength of the grip made me think it was a man. The strength of the grip meant business! Well, it was business all right! Alice’s business! Her business of hospitality. Oh, she knew who I was. She had seen me flit and float by many times before with my fake veneer of whatever I was hiding. She stopped me in my tracks to tell me that she was praying for me. With my happy smile, I kindly thanked her and proceeded to remove myself from her grip. She pulled me in closer and said, “No, Dana, I am praying for you!” Wow! I just didn’t know what to say, but I believed her! And I was glad she was. Unfortunately, Walter passed away unexpectedly from a heart attack. They were at their kitchen table and had been reading from the word of God together. As hard as this may be, I am thankful that they were together serving one another.  Alice was serving Walter in her vocation as a housewife, tending to her husband at their family table.  And Walter was serving Alice by “Washing her in the word” (Ephesians 5:25-29). How beautiful is this picture! I can’t remember the exact circumstances that brought us together, but I’m sure it was my vocation as a hair stylist. We all know that every little old lady needs a hair stylist! Somehow, I accepted the gracious invitation to do Alice’s hair on a weekly basis. I can’t quite remember the first encounter, but I do remember what began to unfold. Two eyes peeking from the living room window to see if I was there, yet. A door flung wide open to greet me. A full tour of her entire house every time I entered. She would tell me elaborate stories in each room of her life with Walter and their adopted daughter, Judy. You couldn’t help but be drawn in! Then I was lead to Alice’s small and very modest kitchen where the tiny table was covered in the finest lace tablecloth and china. A seat was offered and I was invited into her magical world. The joy of the Lord warmed you with her simple bowl of soup. Her peace was poured along with every cup of tea. Love filled the air as cookies baked in the oven. I can’t even remember who was serving who here!? Here I was, a hair stylist from her church and I was welcomed into this humble woman’s home like a princess! At some point in the presentation, I spruced up her little hairdo for the week. But that was definitely the sideshow. She lured me into her world using my vocation as bait to invite me to tea, and her spell worked! Weeks passed, then months, then years. A visit wouldn’t be right without a tour of her garden and what flowers had recently bloomed. Stories of her youth, her twin sisters, the baby brother she prayed for, and her years as an elementary school teacher, her infertility, and her adoption story. She lingered during her stories of Walter, even her honeymoon with him and how she can remember watching him shave for the first time. I have even seen her blush as she sipped her tea and shared an intimate dream she had of him. On Alice’s September birthday, she requested to go to the local farmers market and pick a bouquet of flowers from their wild flower garden. This became an annual tradition. Those peepers were anxiously peeking out the window when I arrived on her birthday each year! Tenderly and lovingly she would walk up and down the aisle selecting just the right one to pick from the rainbow of choices. I would just stop and stare at this woman and feel so blessed to know her and be a part of her life. Her birthday rolled into Valentine’s Day and soon we were spreading scraps of paper, lace, glue and stickers on the table and having our annual homemade Valentine making day! We made Valentine’s for our loved ones. I would usually take my time on one for my hubby, as I watched her make one thoughtful card after another for everyone she knew. I still have mine along with every other card she has ever given me, and I cherish them. One thing Alice and I shared in common was infertility. I did not have an answer to my pain yet, but her answer was her adopted daughter, Judy. Judy and her two daughters were the love of Alice’s life! And I know that the feeling is very mutual. Alice was eventually moved to Judy’s home where she could take better care of her. And I had the honor of continuing our meetings at Judy’s home as well. I had the privilege recently of visiting Alice one last time. I did her hair again and we talked as best we could about her Heavenly Father, memories of our time together, and my boys. She listened intently as I told her about their inquisitive questions about the Lord. I watched as her daughter lovingly tucked her into bed and pulled her embroidered quilt over her tiny body. I went to the kitchen and talked some more with Judy and her daughter, Tiffany, who took upon her the privilege of caring for her elderly grandmother full-time. She was received into her Heavenly Father’s kingdom at the age of 90, just a few weeks ago. Jumping forward, I am laying in bed, curled up with a freshly printed copy of my best friend’s book, Housewife Theologian. I can’t tell you how weird that is!! Reading page after page of every conversation that Aimee and I have ever tried to finish! Every thought trapped in her head, “But, wait! There’s more!”, as we had to part after coffee or an abrupt interruption from our children. It was even weirder to read small illustrations of myself in her chapter on hospitality. I couldn’t help but think of Alice among the many opportunities that I have had to serve others or be served by some amazing Christian women. Both Alice and Aimee have welcomed me into their homes and spread a meal of love before me with deep meaningful conversation and lessons. As Aimee says in her book, “Hospitality involves education in mentoring” (125). She also asks the question, “Whom are you welcoming into you home? It’s easy to open our doors to friends to whom we are attracted. But maybe there are some in your life that you are totally overlooking. I challenge you to open your eyes to the opportunities that you may never have thought of before. We can learn from those who are not the people we would particularly pick as friends to hang out with…We need to challenge ourselves to step a little bit outside our comfort zones in this area ” (129). I also challenge you to reach out to someone who you wouldn’t normally offer hospitality to. Don’t miss out on an opportunity to be mentored by an elderly woman in you church. Or put yourself as the mentor and reach out to a hungry college student home for a break.  I have experienced a lifelong memory of blessings because of a dear, sweet, and wise little old lady named Alice, who is dining with her Heavenly Father and her Savior this very minute in Wonderland. And I’m sure it's on a lace tablecloth that she spread herself! Dana Tuttle is a housewife theologian who is obsessed with headless queens. She is the mother of 7-year-old twin boys, and the wife of King Henry, ahem, she meant to say Troy. She daydreams about owning a pub, but is happy with her role as the crazy theme mom and scrapbooking fool. Dana is an over-achiever in Book Review Club, and can often be found hiding in her closet reading books written by dead theologians while eating the latest leftover holiday candy.