It's All In The Name

A record of the genealogy of Jesus Christ the son of David, the son of Abraham…..
….. Thus there were fourteen generations in all from Abraham to David, fourteen from David to the exile to Babylon, and fourteen from the exile to the Christ.
(Open you Bible and take a look at the names written in this reading – there are too many to list here.)

Matthew 1:1 - 17

It’s all in the name – right. I sure hope not. When I came into this world as a beautiful infant girl just after Christmas in 1950, my parents took one look at me and named me. They named me Lula Mildred. Not Melissa, not Mary, or Sue or Annie. No – I looked like a Lula Mildred to them.

Not so much the perfect name for a 6 pound infant baby girl in a pink blanket - or at least not in my opinion. And my opinion should have counted for something, since I was the 6 pound infant baby girl in the pink blanket. But, who asked me!

I suffered through 12 years of school – dreading the first day each year when the teacher would call out my name – Lula, Lula Little. I flinched while my classmates laughed and smirked – LULA!!!!

It was much worse when my mother called me in for dinner. I could have been a track start. I would generally be at my friend, Marsha’s house. We were generally playing in her “doll” house - writing a paper, or playing school, or house, or whatever. I always kept one ear open for the call.

“L-L-O-O-U-U”. I heard the call. My ears perked up. I looked at Marsha and said, I have to go. I rushed to the doll house door to make sure my ears weren’t deceiving me.

“L-L-U-U-L-L-A-A!” I took off. I headed straight for the gap in the fence that was the shortcut for me to get home. I had to hurry. I knew it was coming. I jumped the fence and ran to make it to the top of the hill between my house and Marsha’s.

I didn’t make it.

“L-L-U-U-L-L-A-A M-M-I-I-L-L-D-D-R-R-E-E-D-D!!!! Defeat! I didn’t make it. My whole neighborhood just heard my name – to me it sounded like it had been bellowed over a PA System. I slowed to a defeated gait. What was the use to hurry now.

Oh, but there was one more blow – LULAMILDREDLITTLE!!!!! That was what I heard when my mother finally saw me. My mother was from the south and could spread out my 3 letter name to a 4 syllable word – unless she was mad – then she could put my 6 syllables in a single spurt.

My brother taunted me (and still does) by calling me Mildred.

How in the world could parents name their beautiful baby girl a name like Lula Mildred Little. And how would I ever get past that name.

Well, I did get past the name – I’m mighty proud of it now. And I know perfectly well how my parents could honor me with that name.

Lula is my grandmother’s name – my father’s mother. She died before I was born. From all that I hear, a very honorable lady. Beautiful and loving to her 6 children.

She mourned the loss of her oldest son who died while he was in his early 20s. Apparently, he was going to quit his job at the telephone company and she told him that the honorable thing to do was to work a 2 week notice. He complied, because he knew his mother was fair and honorable. During that 2 week period, he fell from a telephone pole and was killed. She never got over that. But she continued to love her 5 remaining children. She just never told them what to do. She always told them to use their best judgment in making decisions. She didn’t want to advise them again to make a decision that may cause injury to them.

My parents used that same theory in raising my brothers and me. They taught us right from wrong. They taught us how to follow our conscience and our good sense of right and wrong. They taught us to use the judgment that we were give in making decisions. I have passed that on to my children, too. They are very good at making decisions based on their faith and their conscience.

Mildred is the name of my mother’s twin sister. She had named her daughter after my mother – Thelma. They had always said that they would name their daughters after each other. Aunt Mib (short for Mildred) was full of laughter and fun. She had the best sense of humor in the world. She twirled, she sang, she danced, and she laughed. Her spirit was full of life. I am proud to have inherited her lively spirit – as well as her name.

Aunt Mib was always miffed that mother didn’t call me Mildred – or Mib. One week when Aunt Mib was visiting we were walking in the yard. Mother called me to come complete some chores.

“Lou” – she called.

Aunt Mib kept walking and whispered to me “Don’t answer her until she calls you Mib”.

It was our little inside joke.

My mother didn’t think it was funny.

“Lula” – my mother called.

“Keep walking”, Aunt Mib said.

Mother was not amused.

“LULA MILDRED”, my mother impatiently (very impatiently) called – very loudly.

Aunt Mib sensed that mother had had it. She also sensed that I was about to get a free trip to the hickory bush.

“Well”, Aunt Mib said, “That’s close enough.” I guess you should probably answer her now.

I had a time explaining to my mother that I was only doing what Aunt Mib told me to do when I didn’t answer. She was not amused. Aunt Mib had to intervene and save my little bottom from a good spanking that day.

So there you have it. I was named for my loving, caring grandmother. And my fun-loving, twirling aunt.

I couldn’t be prouder. I love my name. Lula Mildred Little. The one and only. Named for two wonderful women who I hope I have grown to be very much like. They are so much a part of who I am. I carry those names proudly – and I carry them very close to my heart.

My name means something – it is my heritage – it reminds me every day that love of family is greater than other things that seem important for a moment. My name is a great source of pride. So please, feel free to call me – Lula Mildred.

Lord, thank you for family. Thank you for my heritage. Thank you for those who lived before me to make my history something to be proud of. Help me to pass that heritage to future generations. Thank you, Lord. Signed Lula Mildred Little. Amen.