Saturday, July 22, 2017


By: Celia Yeary
"Her name was Katherine."

I am fortunate enough to have a group of long-time friends—girlfriends, if you want to call them that. But we’re not girls anymore. Our relationship goes all the way back to the early seventies, when most of us began teaching at a wonderful Christian/Military boarding school in Central Texas. Since then, we’ve added one friend here, one there, none of us ever knowing how this person became "one of us." Once every six weeks or so, we have A Gathering, as we call our meetings.

The conglomeration of women constitutes as many different personalities as the number of members. We're all different; yet, all have and hold one firm purpose in common—to love and support each other with undying friendship. An odd thing, though—none of us becomes angry with any other. Oh, yes, we discuss, argue, and laugh with great emotion and passion, but even so, our love always comes through. We share a thousand stories, maybe more, memories from years past that cause us to laugh, and sometimes, cry.

We lost one of our friends years ago, but we all remember her as if she sat right there with us, laughing in her robust way, until tears ran down her cheeks.
Her name was Katherine.

This woman acted as counselor and best friend to each of us, but as far as I know, she never asked for nor needed counsel from any of us—not even from other faculty members. I’ve often wondered about that. She had the blessed ability and God-given talent to make each person believe, “I am her best friend.” She was a listener, and when you talked, she gave her complete undivided attention.

A few years ago, our group held a gathering at a member’s home. We brought our covered dishes, presents for the two who had birthdays that month, recent photos of our grandchildren or latest trip, and stories to tell.

One member brought a box. At the end of the evening, she stood and placed it in the middle of the dining table. She told us it held some of Katherine’s knick-knacks that no family member wanted. Previously, they had selected treasured items and had taken them home. But here was a small cardboard box filled with a few assorted useless items. She invited us to choose something as a remembrance.

An item caught my eye. A small book, 4 by 6 inches, a green hardback covered in a linen-like material, the edges outlined in gold, an ivory cameo outlined in gold centered on the cover. The title:

Published by Scribner's
A Cameo Edition-1900
(1st Printing-1850)
(Inside, the presenter had written, to Katherine, with love-1989)

Goosebumps skittered over my arms. You see, I own an identical book, differing only in the title and text. I bought mine several years ago in an antique bookshop somewhere in Kentucky for two dollars.

My title: Reveries of a Bachelor
Published by Scribner's
A Cameo Edition-1893
(1st Printing-1863)

To a skeptic, this probably means nothing. But there’s more to the story. Katherine owned this book long before I bought mine, but she did not buy it. A mutual friend, a lovely lady who once owned an antique shop herself, gave it to her in 1989. I had never seen this book.

So, the three of us share the odd connection of the twin books and a wonderful, longtime friendship. Now, both books are in my care, holding a prominent place on a shelf, as if they symbolize the unbreakable bond of friendship.    

How odd, how mysterious that I walked into an antique book shop six states away, in a small town off the interstate where we pulled off to explore, and among the many antique stores, I chose the one which had this book for sale, among thousands of others, stuck in a dark corner, on a lower shelf where I barely saw it.

You tell me the meaning of this coincidence. And don’t burst my little bubble of happiness.

Celia Yeary-Romance...and a little bit 'o Texas
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  1. Touching post Celia. Katherine was obviously a special woman. About coincidences, I don't believe in them. I believe things happen as they are meant to happen. Call it fate or the design laid down by a higher power.

    I came to this conclusion not long after moving to Texas, following the most stressful period in my life. This involved the death of my mother from cancer while Hubby and I were being forced to move due to job demands, and my father's diagnosis with another type of cancer only months after our move to the Houston area, where he lived. (My folks had been separated for years but not divorced.) I won't go into the details here -- read all about it in my memoir, Six Cats In My Kitchen -- but the circumstances firmly convinced me there is no such thing as coincidence, at least in the big things in life. Thank you for reminding me of that!

  2. Lyn--thanks for your comment. This event is one of those things I can never describe--coincidence? random occurrence? or something meant to be? I admit I usually say "it was meant to happen," not really knowing how I feel about the event.
    Remember, I had never seen the book that belonged to Katherine. Yet it was the one I found in a small dusty book store. The lights were dim in there, and with only one window, I had to squint to read titles. I was not looking for anything in particular. This book was on the bottom in, almost touching the floor. I had no idea why I bought it--until years later.

    1. I call this God-incidences. I do believe God has our lives planned for us.

    2. I like your comment, Connie. Thanks.

  3. I remember this story from another time and thought about the synchronicity of that event as if Katherine was of the same mind as you. It's like a spark of electricity racing through your body when that happens. It has only happened to me once. My ex-husband and I had been to the funeral of a mutual friend, We had not seen or heard from each other in 13 years. I felt compelled to send him a card with a personal note and mailed it. Turned out he had felt that same inexplicable urging. We received our cards on the same day. I finally felt at peace.

    1. Sarah--I like your theory, and probably a synchronicity of some sort has happened to all of us. In this case, though, Katherine had died recently and at that point I did not have this book. The one I did have, which looked identical, and was by the same author, was about a bachelor and his falling in love.
      So at the friends gathering, the small book caught my attention only because on the outside, it was an exact duplicate--except for the title.
      Strange that both Katherine and I owned one of these identical books is a bit eerie.
      Hope this makes sense!


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