For My Husband, On the Occasion of His Birthday

Today is Benjamin's birthday. We are officially celebrating on Monday, as today is Good Friday here in Greece. But today I still want to share a little about my amazing husband. The following are a few stories provided by his family that illustrate Benjamin's character and personality.

From Benjamin's mother, Debi Lewis:

Benjamin was such a mama‘s boy. I never had to wonder, “where is Benjamin?” I just had to look at my feet. He would bring toys from his room to play in the floor of the kitchen, to be near me while I fixed supper. Sometimes he would sit next to my feet and lean his cheek against my leg, while I stirred something on the stove.

For the three weeks before he started kindergarten, he woke in the middle of the night and climbed in bed between Gregg and  me, put his little hands around my face and said, “Mama, I don’t want to go to kindergarten. Please don’t make me go to kindergarten.”

Every night. For three weeks.

Gregg and I discussed it and decided that we would give kindergarten one month and if he was still unhappy, we would home school. The first day of school I was prepared for the worst. We walked in the building. He marched in his room--did not give me a goodbye hug, did not even really say goodbye. Just walked in and took over the room. At the end of that year, Mrs. Terrell, his kindergarten teacher told us that she had never before had a child, in 20 years of teaching, who never made a mistake on a paper, never answered wrong in class.

On the day we took Benjamin to kindergarten Roundup, he was not in the mood to answer questions. Particularly from strangers. First Mrs. Terrell asked him questions and got no answers. A second teacher tried. Then Augusta Davis, who attended our church, gave it a try. Since he knew Mrs. Davis, he consented to answer two questions.
What does your daddy do? 
My daddy writes books, he answered.
What does your mama do? 
My mama washes dishes.

While Benjamin was being home schooled for high school, he walked into the kitchen for breakfast wearing a button up shirt and a suit coat.
“Benjamin, are you going somewhere special today?” I asked.
“No,” he answered, “the student body of Lewis Academy has voted to have a dress code."
So on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, Benjamin dressed up for home school. And on Wednesdays he wore a tie.

Benjamin, Debi, and Jonathan

From Benjamin's father, Gregg Lewis:

I do remember one very specific and memorable story from kindergarten. That was a turning point year for Benjamin.

He refused to perform as a pre-schooler. Nothing his mother did would persuade him to sing in church with the little choir she helped direct. He'd sing loud at practice on Wednesday nights, obviously enjoying himself. But come a Sunday morning when the choir was scheduled to sing as part of the morning worship service, he adamantly refused to take part. His mother and the other choir leader told him he didn't have to wear a robe, he could just sing in his regular clothes. But that wasn't the issue. He still refused. His mother bribed him by promising to buy him a happy meal--we didn't buy happy meals for our kids. Suffice it to say that Benjamin's unwillingness to perform convinced us that he was too shy or had serious performance anxiety.

So we didn't know what to expect when we went to his first kindergarten program in Ms. Terrell's class. You have to understand that programs were a big part of Ms.Terrell's educational philosophy. She had one every month or so for the kids to show their parents how much they were learning in her class. She had very traditional programs she'd been putting on for the 30 years or so she'd been teaching kindergarten. And she was exceedingly demanding and particular about what she expected the children to do. The first program of the year was a little one--just parents sitting on kindergarten chairs in her room with the children seated on the floor waiting to play their parts in the front of the room. Because one of the other kindergarten teachers was a friend from church and had Lisette in her class, we'd heard a lot about Ms. Terrell's programs. And we wondered how our stubborn little non-performer was going to do in her class.

Benjamin's first role was to be one of a handful of children who provided the motions to go along with the lyrics of "My little teapot, short and stout . . . " (and we were pleasantly suprised to see him participating in all the motions) until he came to the lines "tip me over and pour me out" at which he tipped himself over and took a perfect pratfall onto the floor, which of course elicited giggles from all the other children and laughter from more than a few parents. Ms. Terrel scowled. Debi and I weren't sure what had happened--if he'd lost his balance or what. The group recited another little verse and came to the same ending:  tip me over and pour me out. And Benjamin repeated his pratfall to even more giggles from classmates, laughter from parents, and scowls from Ms. Terrell. I honestly don't think Debi and I even cracked a smile. We were looking at each other in shock, wondering Who is this child? We've raised a comedian and never knew it. We did our laughing a lot later and hoped Mrs. Terrell would survive our son.

From his sister, Lisette:

I have given this question a lot of thought, but have had trouble thinking of a memory or specific story that stands out above the rest. I can think of many things I admire and appreciate about Benjamin, but none are more dramatic than the others. And I realized none of the memories I have of my brother stood out above the rest because his character is not most obvious in big dramatic events, but in his consistency. He is faithful, kind, and generous in a thousand little ways, every day.

He is quick to help in any way he can— from the everyday things like cooking and cleaning to helping his sister move (again).

He is generous with his time and his money, and not just when he helps pay for my flight so I can spend Christmas with family.


He is patiently persistent, whether he is helping his beautiful daughter learn to walk, or pursuing his doctorate.

From me, his wife:
One of his traits which I most adore is his ability to comfort and care for others.

One night while I was pregnant with Monica, I became very sick, rushed to the bathroom, and without thinking, threw up in the sink instead of the toilet. I woke Benjamin up because I had clogged the sink. He got me something to drink and cleaned out the sink. Upon returning to bed, he said, "Thank you for waking me up."

He was genuinely grateful for the chance to help me. I've never forgotten that.

On another occasion, shortly after the doctors discovered something was amiss with Monica's brain, I told Benjamin through my tears that I felt very unqualified to parent a child with special needs. He bend over and stroked my hair.

"I can't think of anyone more qualified to parent a child with special needs," he said. Benjamin's confidence in me has been a huge source of strength while raising Monica.

There are a thousand other wonderful stories to tell about Benjamin. If you care to share one, please do so in the comments section and I will share it with him.

Happy Birthday, my love!

Jonathan and Benjamin