At the bed and breakfast I stayed in I saw evidence of her handiwork and the proprietess directed me to Miss Billie. At the local pizza joint I recognized her handiwork, and the owner directed me to Miss Billie, and, finally, at the farmers market I discovered yet another of her marvels sitting on the counter of the polk sallet farmer, and, before he could direct me I knew I'd be paying a visit to Miss Billie.
Leading a quiet and significant life in the community as a volunteer at the food pantry and active church member, the 84 year old retiree is living out her dream of spreading God's love.
"The Lord granted me the privilege of serving as a nurse in Haiti for a two year assignent when I was younger," she said. "It was the highlight of my nursing career."
The woman, who lost her mother at the tender age of 5, was raised by relatives and wished simply to serve and live a life of purpose. Her heart was touched by the mission opportunities abroad, but she chose nursing as a practical measure and quietly lived her life.
Upon retiring her healing hands, however, Miss Billie felt compelled to spread the gospel through other means.
It all started, she said, with seashells gifted to her by a friend.
"I just thought the shells would make a perfect canvas for little prayers and verses," she said, "and so I inscribed the shells using the smallest marker I could possibly find."
Miss Billie stuffed a few shells in her pockets every time she left home and began gifting them to others as the Lord led her, she said.
She never attempted to match the verse to the recipient but left that in God's hands.
"I just put my hand in my pocket, and whatever shell I touched I gave away," she added. She wasn't expecting what happened next.
"Why, people would cry when they read the scripture, and I was worried I'd done something wrong," she said.
There was no need to worry. The shells had simply unleashed deep held emotions.
"One man told me he'd received the Lord early in his life but because of a lot of misfortunes, including the recent death of his wife, he had begun questioning his early teachings. The shell I gave him told him how much God loved him," Miss Billie said, in an astonished tone.
That reaction replayed over and over these past few years.
One of God’s provisions is the shells. “People just leave bags of shells on my front porch all the time,” she said. “A friend of mine went to Scotland and brought me shells, and I’ve been given shells from Spain, Ireland, the Caribbean islands and even Iran. A sweet couple who visits every year even sent me a box of shells from New Zealand. They were the most beautiful shells I ever saw. I forgot how much she had to pay to send me that box all the way from New Zealand. She even cleaned and wrapped each one in tissue,” she marveled.
Part of the charm is the shells themselves, Miss Billie said, because they are beautiful, and no two are alike. And the broken shells are her favorite because that’s what God does. “He makes something beautiful out of our dirty old lives.”
When teacher friends spread the shells throughout New York, they were quick to point out, after the destruction of 9/11, that they had saturated the Twin Towers with the shells. “They asked me if I realized that my shells were with those poor souls in the tower,” she said. “That really touched me.”
Miss Billie has responded to many requests from admirers who ask for shells to take to other patients receiving chemo treatments, shells to take to prisoners, and shells to take to nursing home patients.
She denys no one.
Her hobby turned global overnight. “The first foreign Bible friends brought me from their travels was a Farsi Bible, so I began writing versus in that language. Before you know it, a mission group heading to Iran took those shells with them on their trip and scattered them everywhere. Then, things just snowballed, and I received Bibles in Spanish, Italian, German and even Swahili,” she said.
A youth group headed to Africa carried a suitcase full of the shells written in Swahili. "They were so excited," Miss Billie said. "There are a lot ofplaces that Bibles aren't welcome, but everyone accepts shells."
There is a rhythm to the shell preparation. “I always bleach and scrub the shells first,” she said, “and then they have to dry in order to hold the ink.”
Although the shells are plentiful, the ink is measured out, stroke by stroke. The Rapidograph pens with their tubular nibs are the markers of choice for Miss Billie, but at $35 apiece, they are pricey. Although she was known to have an exemplary hand as a child and practice the art of calligraphy, she tones down her script for the shells.
“It would miss the point if people couldn’t read the message,” she said, “if folks got carried away in my curly Qs, so I don’t use all my fancy strokes.”
What Biss Billie does use is her time and her talents to serve the Lord.
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