I've been to Dallas

Frankye, overseeing helpers in her kitchen.

Frankye laying out the barbecue.

And that's Frankye holding her dog as we sign hymns in her living room.

In the year 2000, my husband took me to Dallas, Texas, to meet up with people with whom I chatted in an AOL Christian fifty-plus chat room. I was going to go on my own, but Cliff didn't trust people on the Internet. So he went for my protection.

We went again in 2001, and I've been to other cities since, meeting Internet buddies. Cliff decided the group was harmless and agreed to let me fly to our gatherings alone.

The coordinator of the Dallas reunion is a woman named Frankye (Cliff asked yesterday, "What's her real name?" "It's Frankye," I told him.)

Frankye's job is to keep us out of trouble, keep us occupied, and make sure we eat plenty. She's done that very well. She opens her home to twenty-five people from all over the country (Washington state, Maryland, Arkansas, Missouri) and makes each one feel special and welcomed.

I stopped chatting some time back, and had no plans to attend the gathering until I found out it was going to be the last one. There's a very good chance I won't have another opportunity to see these folks again, ever. So I went, even though we're in the middle of some heavy goings-on here at home.

I'm glad I went. God bless Frankye for her hard work and hospitality over the years. Oh, and for a little snippet of us "old folks" singing a hymn at Frankye's house, click HERE.