Mrs. Ellington a lesson in grammar and Grace

In the center, white pantsuit

I’ll never forget my eighth-grade English teacher, Mrs. Betty Ellington — a truly remarkable woman born in 1916, back when ladies still wore gloves to church and manners were as important as math. By the time I met her, she was what we affectionately called a “blue-haired lady,” though she’d likely have preferred “silvery-haired Southern gentlewoman.” She carried herself with such poise and grace that even her posture seemed to correct ours.

Mrs. Ellington taught in the DeKalb County School System for over forty years, with more than thirty of those right there at Clarkston High School. Most of us owe our command of the English language — and perhaps our tendency to correct others — to her. She was a stickler for grammar, and heaven help you if you ended a sentence with a preposition. She had us memorize all forty-eight of them, pounding them into our teenage brains until we could recite them in our sleep.

I can still rattle off the start of the list: aboard, about, above, across, after, against, along, amid, among, around, at… — and yes, I can still hear her voice echoing, “Keep going, class!” I must’ve driven my poor family crazy, wandering around the house muttering prepositions under my breath like a preacher in a spelling bee revival.

She also made sure we learned the eight parts of speech, diagrammed sentences until our hands cramped, and used only blue, black, or blue-black ink — nothing else would do. You didn’t dare turn in an assignment in pencil or (heaven forbid) green ink unless you were looking for extra homework.

But outside the classroom, Mrs. Ellington revealed a softer, more joyful side — especially at Clarkston Baptist Church. I’ll never forget seeing her at the piano, her perfectly coiffed hair catching the light, her hands gliding across the keys with pure joy. She’d look out at the congregation with the biggest smile on her face, completely at ease and full of the Spirit. The same woman who ran her classroom like the Queen’s Court could let loose in church, beaming as she played hymns that made you want to shout “Amen!”

She had her own brand of Southern elegance — she loved fancy clip-on earbobs (the sparklier, the better), beautiful neck scarves tied just so, and she was a die-hard Georgia Tech fan, bless her heart. You could always count on her to display school spirit in the most ladylike way possible — probably with a gold brooch or a tasteful ribbon.

Mrs. Ellington was the definition of a “gentile Southern lady” — dignified, devoted, and deeply godly. She taught generations of students not only how to write a proper sentence, but how to carry themselves with grace and purpose. She passed away at the age of 92, leaving behind a legacy that lives on in every essay, letter, and grammatically correct Facebook post written by one of her students.

To this day, when I hear someone say “where’s it at,” I can almost feel Mrs. Ellington looking down from heaven, shaking her head with that patient, knowing smile. I like to think she’s still correcting papers up there — in blue-black ink, of course — and maybe playing a few hymns on that heavenly piano between classes.

Dear Lord,

Thank You for the teachers who shape our minds and our hearts. Thank You especially for Mrs. Betty Ellington, who taught us that every word matters — in grammar and in life. May we honor her legacy by speaking with kindness, writing with purpose, and living with the same grace she carried so well.

And if she’s up there grading our work, Lord, please remind her to use a little mercy with that red pen.

Amen.