For thirty-three years, Gammy was a history teacher in the San Antonio school system. She helped shape and influence the lives of multiple generations of families. She turned out doctors, lawyers, educators, and other professionals, many of whom came back to visit her after she retired. And even when she did retire, Gammy never quit teaching. Through the way she lived her life, she taught us lessons that will live on even though she did not. She has made her own mark in history and leaves behind a legacy of service and humility.

Gammy taught us to how to pay attention. She was always attentive to the needs of other people. She spent her last several years in an assisted-living apartment and regularly made sure that the other tenants were being cared for. She took interest in the ones who were neglected, who weren’t visited very often. She knew all the residents and workers by name and treated them in a way that made them feel special, as if they were part of her family. To her, everyone deserved the very best that she could give, and that’s usually what she gave.

The Bible warns about the danger of us being so wrapped up in ourselves that we neglect to see the needs of other people around us. Paul said to “do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others” (Phil. 2:3-4). If you’re too busy to serve, then perhaps you’re in the wrong business. If you’re too important to help, then how will you ever be like Jesus? He emptied Himself. I’m afraid we’re too full of ourselves.

Gammy taught us to do our own work. She firmly believed that a person ought to reach the age where they can stand on their own two feet. She once told one of Melissa’s cousins who seemed to be spinning her a wheels a bit, “you need to get your head out of the dirt.” Only Gammy could get away with saying that. Partly because she was 95 years old. And partly because she did more in her retirement than most people do in a lifetime. Working hard was a matter of principle to her. She instilled that into her family and lived the lesson well.

That, too, finds its foundation in Scripture. “For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may be recompensed for his deeds in the body, according to what he has done, whether good or evil” (2 Cor. 5:10). Judgment is between you and God. There will be no lines for couples or families or churches. You will answer individually. That’s why it is important to have your own faith, to hold on to your own hope, to work out your own salvation. If those things don’t belong to you, then you don’t belong to Him.

Gammy taught us about the importance of home work. When I first met her, she asked me more questions about my family than she did about me. She wanted to know my great-grandparents’ names, where they lived, and when my ancestors first came to America. I soon learned that tracing genealogies was a passion of hers, and I often kidded her not to tell me if she found out that the Garners and Klutzs were distant relatives.

But she would be the first to tell you that the most important family tree of all was her own. Long before I married her granddaughter, she took me aside and said, “You know Melissa is my baby, don’t you?” She took care of her mother and sister, without complaint, through their ongoing illnesses. She remembered birthdays and would call even when she couldn’t hear if you were on the other end or not. And during the holidays, she would wear herself out just to be at the family gatherings. To Gammy, energy not spent on your loved ones was just energy misspent.

One of Morgan’s most often asked questions is, “Daddy, can you play with me?” I’m ashamed that she even has to say it. Family ought to be important enough to us that we will put down the paper, turn off the ball game, cancel the golf outing, get off the computer and get involved with them without having to being asked. If you don’t put your family first, who will?

When Melissa was still teaching school, one of her students gave her a little throw pillow that said, “To teach is to touch a life forever.” That is certainly the case with Gammy. It is just one way that she, though being dead, still speaks.