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Her name was Sharon

                                    And I in eighth grade,

                                      I spoke not a word

                                     As I sat in the shade.

                                   A shade of blue sadness,

                                      My life in distress,

                                  Complications of sorts left

                                      My heart in a mess.

                                 One day the bell rang and

                                  Teacher said "Stay..."

                                  The students thought I

                                 Was in trouble that day.     

                                     But she offered, 

                             "No, there's no trouble at all"

                                  As the class emptied      

                                     Out into the hall.    

                                Miss D was quite young 

                           When she earned her degree 

                         As close in our age as my sister  

                                          To me      

                          She reached out to this child

                             As a teacher and friend

                           Sharen her faith of her Hope

                                   Past times end....

                                  I listened to her, 

                                And I felt her dear

                                         Carin'

                              "Don't call me Miss D,

                        Outside class, call me Sharon."

                     Though I did not accept her sweet

                                 Faith right away, 

                        I think her God heard her as for

                                  Me she prayed.   

                          She moved on to Europe      

                              And we lost contact,      

                      Still an anchor in my heart's recall

                                  Looking back.

                             Teaching us History

                      And the next year taught art   

                         My friend and my teacher

                               Gave me a part

                      Of her time, and her friendship 

                            A sweet sharing heart.

                    I wish I could tell her what she  

                                 Meant to me

                           To a quiet young girl

                        From Eighth grade History
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