DATE: Sunday, November 23, 1997             TAG: 9711230056

SECTION: LOCAL                   PAGE: B1   EDITION: NORTH CAROLINA 

SOURCE: BY PAUL SOUTH

DATELINE: MANTEO                            LENGTH:   61 lines

LIFE STORIES OF GOOD FOLKS ARE A REASON TO BE THANKFUL

The Good Book says there's a season for everything, and everything in its season. And this week marks our time for giving thanks.

I am thankful that in this space, for the past 3 1/2 years, I've been given the opportunity to share stories of good people who ordinarily wouldn't appear in the paper, save to announce their marriage or their passing.

There are the courageous among us, like Orrin Gray of Hatteras Island, who survived cancer, and little Rambo Mauldin, who did not. Their families opened their hearts and homes to us, and shared stories of unconditional love in the face of unspeakable terror.

We've written of folks who do good deeds every day, like crossing guard Belva Weeks. Belva will realize a lifelong dream this week by marching as a clown in the Macy's parade. Miss Belva's story is well-documented. Many years ago, her only son was playing on a frozen pond, when the ice cracked and he drowned. She has spent the years since making the crossing at Manteo Elementary School safe for the children. And she does it with the help of crazy costumes, and an eternal smile.

What you may not know about is the work of Frank and Kathy Sparrow in helping Belva get to the parade. They've toiled to make sure one of our community's shining lights will, in a small way, make a nation smile on Thanksgiving Day.

We've written about little things that may seem trivial to most, but to some conjure a shining package of memories - Goo Goo Clusters and collard greens, porches and pumpkins, beach music and baseball.

Politics has crept in occasionally, mostly about how we need to pull together as a community and a nation. There was one column about Mrs. Murphy, my childhood Sunday school teacher, who believed the song she taught each Sabbath.

``Red and yellow, black and white, ``They are precious in his sight.''

Mostly, folks have been forgiving to a fault about the meanderings in this space each Sunday, most about things I believe in - sweet tea, unconditional love, college football and forgiveness. I believe in the Bible and that Jesus died for me, and that folks who don't believe as I not only have a right to do so, but should have that right defended.

I believe that pitchers should hit for themselves, and that Patsy Cline is the finest singer God put on the Earth.

I believe that it's all right for a man to cry, and that the world has become so hard with political correctness, we've forgotten how to laugh at ourselves.

I believe that ``To Kill a Mockingbird'' is the finest work of fiction ever written. And when I grow up, if I can't be like my dad, I want to be Atticus Finch.

I believe it's all right to grieve for those long gone. Ironically, this past weekend, my dad would have celebrated his 61st birthday, my grandmother, her 89th. And on dark days that seem to come more often than not here lately, I think of them, and miss them hard. I'd trade a lifetime of Pulitzer prizes for one more talk, one more smile, one more deep embrace.

I believe in family.

There are columnists like Molly Ivins or William Safire, who share their considerable intellect with readers each week. I'm nowhere close to those fine folks in talent or intelligence. All I've tried to share is a bit of my heart.

On this Thanksgiving, I'm most grateful for the opportunity to chat each Sunday. May you have a blessed and safe holiday.

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