Be Like Bernie Rea! Invite Hope to the Table.

As the daughter of a Coast Guard admiral, Bernardine “Bernie” Rea spent her childhood traveling the world, never settling long enough to grow roots. What she longed for most was community, something steady, something she could nurture and belong to. That longing, paired with her fierce love for children, led her to Walkertown Elementary, where she spent forty years shaping young lives with gentleness, humor, and an unwavering belief in the goodness of people.

Her second graders adored her, their schoolwork often returned to them with bright, stickers. “Everyone loves stickers,” she would say with a grin. And when asked why she chose to teach second grade, she laughed: “They still love their teacher at that age.” Beyond reading and math, her curriculum centered on something deeper—how to be a good friend. Her students learned by watching. Friendship was something she lived. Fittingly, her middle name is Friend, a family name passed down but made even more accurate by the life she built.

Sitting in her home beside her caregiver, Amber Torrence, and her dear friend, Susan Richardson, it becomes clear within minutes why so many people say they want to “Be Like Bernie.” She radiates positivity—effortlessly, quietly, constantly. On her wall hangs a plaque from the Friends of Bernadine Rea Book Scholarship, honoring her for “inspiring and sharing a lifelong love of learning” and for her “true, honest and unselfish kindness and compassion.” Selflessness is her defining instinct.

Amber’s voice softens as she adds, “She beat breast cancer in 1976 and thyroid cancer in 1996. She never missed a day of school. She’s a strong woman.” The admiration in the room is palpable.

During her years at Walkertown, Bernie became known for celebrating others—birthdays, milestones, hard days—with handmade cards and banners covered in, of course, stickers, often with a small gift tucked inside. One day she decided to make a donation to Second Harvest Food Bank in honor of a friend’s birthday. The friend was so moved that Bernie kept going. “I like to do this for birthdays, anniversaries… even when someone loses a pet,” she says. She even employs her dog Sunny to request donations on Facebook. Who could resist that duo?

Over time, the people she honored with donations began donating to the food bank in her honor—especially on her birthday. Bernie brushes off the praise, focusing instead on the people she hopes to help. “There are so many people who aren’t as lucky as we are,” she says quietly. “Some don’t have jobs. Some are self-employed, and if they get sick or take a day off, they don’t get paid. You can’t do without food. When you donate a dollar, Second Harvest can turn that into six meals. That feels good.”

Susan’s voice catches as she tries to speak. “Bernie has truly enriched my life. No matter what she’s going through, she’s always thinking of others. Every little bit adds up—what she does for Second Harvest in a year is amazing. I truly want to be like Bernie.”

Amber, who once helped with chores and later left a full-time job to become Bernie’s caregiver, wipes away tears of her own. “Bernie needed help, so I quit my job and came to her. She’s so good. I’ve seen people hungry, and kids who don’t get meals at home. When she donates to the food bank, it makes a real difference. She’s automatically going to heaven—she does exactly what Jesus would want us to do. She’s, my hero.”

When asked why she thinks her friends become so emotional when speaking about her, Bernie simply shrugs. “I guess they don’t see that many people who care,” she says softly. “Most people think of themselves.”

But Bernie has lived her entire life looking outward—toward the needs of her students, her friends, and the community she once craved. In this season of giving, her example reminds us what compassion looks like when practiced daily: steady, joyful, and humble. One act of kindness. One donation. One sticker-covered card at a time.

If only we could all “Be Like Bernie Rea.”