By Greg Teffertiller | BCH Chief Marketing Officer
Vernon Abbott does not round up.
Ask the 94-year-old how long he was married, and he will tell you exactly: 72 years, five months and three weeks.
“One more week, it would have been 72 and a half,” he says. “But we didn’t make it to 72 and a half.”
When you love someone that long, every week counts.
A journey with Jesus and Shirley
Vernon tells how they met with a twinkle, jovial and joking, delighting in the mischief. It began on a double date in a 1941 Ford, with Shirley riding up front as another boy’s girlfriend. When the other fellows hopped out at a country store for cigarettes, Vernon turned around to talk. So did Shirley.
“Next thing you know,” he laughs, “we were sitting there holding hands.”
“I feel like God has been with me all the way,” Vernon says. “God pushed me around the corner, got me to where I am. It was a wonderful journey, a journey with Jesus and Shirley.”
Ask who Shirley was, and Vernon reaches past ordinary words.
“She was a large woman. I don’t mean large dress size. She was large from inside out. She loved everybody.”
Friends at BCH called her Saint Shirley.
She cooked something special for every church function and every grocery run. She handed dollars out the car window to strangers. Her philosophy could hang over the door of any ministry: “I’d rather give to two that didn’t need it than to pass one that did.”
The last thing left in her hands
Shirley served as treasurer of her Sunday school class. After her passing, a class member asked Vernon to find the class treasury. He searched until he discovered it: a small bag of offerings from the ladies of the class, who had faithfully continued sending their gifts to Shirley even after she could no longer be with them.
In the end, the last thing left in her hands was the class’s treasure.
For decades, that treasure had quietly made its way to BCH. Both of their Sunday school classes gave year after year. Every time Shirley’s class treasury reached $100, she mailed it in.
Then, one morning, Vernon lay awake thinking of a song his daddy used to sing. Give me the roses while I live.
He knew it was time. He wanted to give while he could still see it bloom.
A small little monument
This is how Vernon came to a table at BCH’s Mills Home in Thomasville, family gathered around him, carrying a gift of remarkable generosity to establish the Shirley Abbott Endowment.
An endowment is a permanent fund. The gift is invested and stays intact, and each year a portion of what it earns supports the ministry. It will support BCH’s work with children for generations. And it is open to anyone inspired by Shirley’s story.
“I feel that what we’re doing is putting up a small little monument for Shirley, hoping it will grow and hoping that you will use it.”
Twenty years of phone calls
For nearly 20 years, Vernon had been calling BCH’s Alan Williams once or twice a year. The calls began with business and became friendship.
Shirley got in on the calls too, and learned something even Vernon did not know: Alan’s given name is Jonah.
“You can call him Alan if you want,” she told Vernon, “but I like the name Jonah.”
After she passed, Vernon found the entry in her phone. Jonah Williams.
At the signing to establish the endowment, the two men met face to face for the first time. Vernon’s family says it was on his bucket list.
“When we have phone conversations, it’s just like talking to a really good friend,” Alan said. “This is a blessing.”
“Tell them about Jesus”
But Vernon did not drive from Raleigh only to reminisce.
Late in the visit, BCH CEO David Melber told him something hard to hear: most of the children who come into BCH’s care grew up in North Carolina, in the buckle of the Bible belt, and yet have never heard the name of Jesus.
“You’re kidding?” Vernon said, awe and disappointment in his voice.
“Not kidding at all,” David replied.
Vernon had been reading Jeremiah, and one verse would not let him go: “The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved” (Jeremiah 8:20).
“Y’all do something about that for these young people that come in here,” he charged. “That’s your job.”
He reminded Alan of a call from years ago. “You said, Vernon, we have to feed them. And I said, yes, feed them, but tell them about Jesus.”
That is exactly what his gift will do.
“On behalf of BCH, our trustees and our staff, we are grateful for your testimony, your faithful life and your sacrificial investment in God’s kingdom,” David told Vernon. “It’s not about the money. It’s about where your heart is. Every time I see Shirley’s name, I’m going to tell the story of someone finishing well and leaving a legacy. Testimonies like yours are like gas in our tank.”
A monument to Saint Shirley now stands at BCH.
Vernon intends to watch it grow.
You can contribute to the Shirley Abbott Endowment by contacting Alan Williams, BCH Advancement, at (336) 474-1277.
Wondering how a gift like this actually works? Our practical guide walks through what an endowment is, how a legacy gift gets made, and what a first conversation looks like. How to Leave a Legacy at Baptist Children’s Homes.
