She is one of the happiest Christians my wife and I have ever known. Yet our sister born years ago to parents who were unable to keep their child has never enjoyed the blessings of full mental faculties that most of us take for granted.
Raised as an orphan by relatives, never married, dependent upon others for her care, at times mistreated by those employed in a government system intended to help her, the victim of some medical and surgical procedures which she was unable to understand or question, she now resides in a nursing care facility, spending most of her day seated in a wheelchair—uncomfortably bowed over due to a severe spinal curvature.
For the present time, her “world” consists of a small room shared with two other elderly ladies. Along with a cloth privacy curtain, her bed, dresser and wheelchair serve as mute borders defining her tiny domain. Normally, the only daily change of scenery she experiences is when she wheels herself to the dining hall where all meals are served.
The nursing center where she lives home to many who are unable to care for themselves is, thankfully, quite clean and well run. Still, the environment is permeated by all the sights, sounds and smells common to such a facility. Certainly, it is not a place that a person in sound mind and body would look forward to living out their life in nor is it an easy place to go to, even for a visit.
Our dear sister’s health needs require that she must daily bear with sometimes impatient, harried nurses staff who on occasion seem as interested in her candy jar as in her comfort. One of her roommates has a television that is often turned on too loud and too long. Her telephone never rings often enough, for she loves to talk to others. Having no earthly family, she eagerly looks forward to visits from her brethren to help pass the lonely hours. Both her hearing and her sight are getting worse, and, at 86, her health problems continue to take their toll.
Yet in the midst of all these adverse circumstances, her daily response to the question, “How are you today?” is, “Very well, thank you. This is the day the Lord hath made, I will be glad and rejoice in it.” The joy radiating from her face gives ample testimony to the heartfelt reality of her utterance.
One of her chief delights is reading her large-print Bible. In an environment where residents’ actions and habits quickly gain unwelcome notoriety among the staff, she has the reputation of being a happy and contented person a commendation which all who bear the name of “Christian” would do well to personally covet.
Every few months, the staff meets individually with its residents and their families, giving them an opportunity to discuss concerns. Our sister’s constant reply to the staff when asked at these meetings how she is getting along is her usual bright and cheery “Very well, thank you.” Her chief concern seems to be that my wife will be sure to bring her a clean dress to wear on the Lord’s Day because it’s the Lord’s Day and just in case she has visitors.
On the morning of a recent meeting, as my wife came to our sister’s room to wheel her to the office, she was greeted by a new sound: Our sister was singing a hymn from the Little Flock Hymn Book.
At that meeting a staff member told my wife, “We have never had anyone as happy and content as she never complaining, always smiling and always cooperative. She is a joy to be around.”
Indeed, her happiness should not come as a surprise to anyone. After all... she’s simply a living example of normal Christianity.
Ed.
Note: Our sister loves to receive mail. Any wishing to write may contact the editor for her address.