Wanted to share a personal experience that has left an indelible mark on my and my family’s soul. The lessons I have learned along the way are why I share. And I still am in the school of learning. It’s like every day when we go outside our homes, it opens a classroom door to valuable lessons.
A Cup of Cold Water…
On a quiet, spring morning, as I sat in the living room reminiscing, the early morning news program was silenced in my mind as my thoughts turned to my neighbor and the rich friendship we shared. Nostalgia overtakes my thought processes and for those who have not met some of the beautiful people in my personal life experiences, I like to share from them.
And the lessons! There were many. But they wouldn’t have been had we not welcomed her into our lives. I retrieved a spiral notebook and returned to my chair in the living room. The tv program was an intrusion on my memories. I turned off the set and began to recall our shared experiences over the years. Sentimental reflections flowed from my pen capturing scenes of years gone by. As if to seal the friendship with love, tears erupted. Oh, they were celebratory, too. One cannot fabricate such real-life experiences as we enjoyed together. Those memories that I penned were tucked away in a safe place. On occasion I would take them out again and re-visit them and edit the content.
So, I wrote…
I watched as she mowed her lawn and worked diligently in the spring to plant her garden with so many varieties of fruits and vegetables, literally from apples to zinnias.
She was getting up in years, but she had a drive and determination to work the soil, to enjoy the fruits (and vegetables) of her labor.
As she planted yet another apple tree, she was in her mid-seventies by then, and I concluded that she worked her garden with a hopeful attitude that there would be many more sunrises and sunsets for her life. And there were.
This sweet lady plowed in hope and greatly enjoyed partaking of the fruits and vegetables which she cared for.
God's Word was her counselor daily... her Bible was always opened with her magnifying glass placed along side and kept on the kitchen table. Her faith and hope were her strength throughout her life.
Lessons from nature
The giant cherry tree that we both enjoyed was on our property next to her fence line. I watched that tree grow and bloom annually. It was aging and over time, produced less and less fruit. An occasional squirrel would visit our property, climb the tree and sit on a branch and enjoy the buds of the fruit.
But in that tree’s youthful years, it provided fruit for us and the animals as well. The bark on that tree developed an aging appearance, it was darker in some areas and the wear and tear of the seasons was producing scars in the bark, some years the storms of life, the assault from without, left it without the needed resistance to stand.
As I stood in my kitchen doorway, looking at the gnarled and twisted branches of that cherry tree, I thought, “for so many years you have had a place in our lives; we’ve shared the fruit of your labor and laughed in the midst of the effort to gather the beautiful fruit...” Funny how that tree was writing its own story of time while drawing a picture of a lasting relationship.
Rebekah phoned to ask if I would come and help her can the surplus of tomatoes from her garden. There was a man in our neighborhood who had twin daughters, Mom had passed, so Rebekah wanted to share in her bounty with him and his girls since there was no mom in the household.
I sat in an old oak rocking chair with worn fabric seat, springs threatening to pop thru and while peeling those tomatoes, I listened as she gave me updates on the neighbors she talked to regularly on the phone (sometimes the conversation about them was as juicy as the tomatoes we were peeling). By the time we had finished the project, it was time to clear out a mess of tomato peels and spilled juice and leave the tomatoes processing on her gas stove in the basement.
The Concord grapevines that grew farther down in the yard provided an overflowing abundance of grapes each year. The branches that extended well over on to our side gave us wonderful jelly for years. Rebekah asked me to help her make grape jam one fall and there we were, side by side, “putting up” more of winter’s joy. Then there was the time she called to inquire about my electric knife…” could I use that to cut this corn off the cob?” Of course! But I went over carrying the knife and cut all the corn off and helped her bag it for the freezer.
Unforgettable! experiences written on my memory. Experiences that put me in the Master Rabbi's classroom...
Warm Pound cake
I made an old-fashioned, genuine pound cake on one occasion and just-out-of-the oven warm, I carried a slice of that cake to her. She put her little arms around me and said, “honey, you treat me so good."
Just before her eighty-third birthday, she became very ill, making several trips to a doctor before she had to undergo more extensive testing.
Cancer had stricken her. It eventually metastasized. For a short time, she remained at home, in bed, and we promised to do what we could.
Chicken Dumplin's
Her strength was waning, my mom and I prepared food for her. On one occasion Momma made chicken ‘dumplings and the look on her face as she ate brought joy to my heart.
Homemade rolls
One day I shared my homemade rolls with her, and she made a statement that humbled me to tears; she said, “That tastes like Angel bread.” Tears flow every time I think about it and I was just doing what the Spirit prompted.
She was our friend, a member of the family who was invited to birthday parties and our children were receiving lessons along the way on what respect and honor were toward others.
Her children, all of whom lived in other states, were attentive to her plight and eventually she had to be moved to a nursing facility because of the degree of care she required...
As my husband and I stepped into her room we spotted her bed in the far corner (by this time I knew she had liver cancer), and we were so moved emotionally by the scene. When we approached her bed, I told her who we were, and I said you know who I am don’t you. “No.” she said.
I poured her a cup of water to drink because I noticed her lips were parched and cracking. Seeing she was so tired; we made our visit brief. Before leaving, I kissed her forehead and told her we loved her.
The next morning, I received a phone call from a friend telling me that Rebekah had died.
Amid the flood of tears, these scripture verses flashed across my memory:
For I was hungry, and you gave Me food; I was thirsty, and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in; I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me
‘Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me.’ Matt.25
Just a cup of cold water...
Feel free to comment
Comments