Those who love deeply never grow old. They may die of old age, but they die young.
~~~~~~~~~~~ Benjamin Franklin
Many summers ago, I took a job for six weeks in a small city of maybe 45,000. Rental housing was scarce, so I lived in a hotel for a few days until a young co-worker told me about a garage apartment at the home of her grandmother. I made an appointment to go see it, and had already decided that unless the place was filled with hot and cold running cockroaches, or had an outdoor bathroom, I was taking it. When I arrived, I met Millie, the grandmother. I was in my 20s, and Millie was probably 70---an "old lady" by my youthful metrics---and she remained a fixture in my life for the next 22 years.
The negotiation over the rent was priceless. She wanted to charge far less than I thought I should pay, so our offers and counters each went in the wrong direction; we settled on $20 a week. She wouldn't let me do any chores when I asked her, but I discovered that if I did them when she was away from the house, she wouldn't scold me too much. I went back to that community a few months later, with a brand new full-time job, and for the next 20+ years, I saw Millie at least once a week at church. Ours was quite the love affair. She greeted me like a puppy waiting at the door for me to come home.
When she died at age 92, our big ol' church was almost full. The preacher made a remark that has stayed with me ever since. He told us to look around and notice the number of us who were there. "Usually," he began, "when people in their 90s die, their funeral is not well attended. They have a few family members, but they've outlived all their friends. The fact that all of you are all here tells you all you need to know about how many lives Millie touched while she was here."
Ah, a light bulb moment. In death even more than in life, Millie taught us all the true meaning of the "Proverbs woman." How many lives can each of us touch today? To whom can we be Millie?
Blessings all.
NT
Proverbs 31
~~~~~~~~~~~ Benjamin Franklin
Many summers ago, I took a job for six weeks in a small city of maybe 45,000. Rental housing was scarce, so I lived in a hotel for a few days until a young co-worker told me about a garage apartment at the home of her grandmother. I made an appointment to go see it, and had already decided that unless the place was filled with hot and cold running cockroaches, or had an outdoor bathroom, I was taking it. When I arrived, I met Millie, the grandmother. I was in my 20s, and Millie was probably 70---an "old lady" by my youthful metrics---and she remained a fixture in my life for the next 22 years.
The negotiation over the rent was priceless. She wanted to charge far less than I thought I should pay, so our offers and counters each went in the wrong direction; we settled on $20 a week. She wouldn't let me do any chores when I asked her, but I discovered that if I did them when she was away from the house, she wouldn't scold me too much. I went back to that community a few months later, with a brand new full-time job, and for the next 20+ years, I saw Millie at least once a week at church. Ours was quite the love affair. She greeted me like a puppy waiting at the door for me to come home.
When she died at age 92, our big ol' church was almost full. The preacher made a remark that has stayed with me ever since. He told us to look around and notice the number of us who were there. "Usually," he began, "when people in their 90s die, their funeral is not well attended. They have a few family members, but they've outlived all their friends. The fact that all of you are all here tells you all you need to know about how many lives Millie touched while she was here."
Ah, a light bulb moment. In death even more than in life, Millie taught us all the true meaning of the "Proverbs woman." How many lives can each of us touch today? To whom can we be Millie?
Blessings all.
NT
Proverbs 31
