Fullness of Joy
Wednesday was a full day. I had more on my schedule than was actually humanly possible and scattered among that stuff were people and their stories. I’ll change their names as I tell you some of those stories.
At the beginning of the day, I worked on a Christmas project and made a fruit salad to take to a Christmas luncheon. I flew out the door to teach ladies Bible class at 10. Last week and this week, we read passages about creation and looked at some of our pictures from Alaska. Today we read Psalm 104.
O Lord, how many are Your works!
In wisdom You have made them all;
The earth is full of Your possessions . . . Psalm 104:24
After class, Mother, Miss Jill, and I drove a couple of blocks from church to the home of Tina, a member of our class. Visiting Tina’s house at Christmastime is a feast for the palate and the eyes. When Ray and I were skyping with our grandson Henry this week, he saw a Christmas tree behind me and told his daddy he saw “Christmas.” At Tina’s, “Christmas” is in view almost everywhere you look. I told her I’d like to come take decorating classes.
I, the youngest person at the party, ended up beside Miss Joanie who was the oldest. She is an intelligent and feisty ninety-year-0ld. Everyone at my table was a native and I am such a newcomer. After all, I have only lived here eleven years! They chatted away about people they all knew. Miss Joanie participated energetically.
The conversation turned to animal encounters. Miss Susie has a fat opossum who visits her porch each evening. Miss Trudy saw an albino skunk in her driveway a while back. Miss Joanie began to tell about past animal encounters at her cabin by a nearby lake.
I asked if she still goes to the cabin. She said that she doesn’t because she doesn’t want to go alone. As the other ladies ate and chatted, Miss Joanie began talking only to me. She told me about how hard it is to do everything alone. I have known for sometime that Miss Joanie has a lot of pain in one shoulder. She told me that she has used the other arm so much it is beginning to hurt, too. She said she didn’t know what she was going to do if she got to the point that she couldn’t dress herself.
Mother and I were among the last ones to leave the party. I went back to my Christmas project when we got home. In no time, it was time to leave for our haircuts. Mother sat in the chair first. As my regular stylist, who had never cut Mother’s hair before, gave Mother one of her best haircuts ever, I wrote Christmas greetings in forty Bibles in preparation for our children’s program at church last night.
Our Mev was the director of the program. She had texted me during the luncheon to see if I could come an hour early. Mother and I got to church just in time for me to head to my post in the pre-program chaos in the church basement. Belts had to be cut and tied, halos had to be put on, and lots of children needed to be corralled in the dressing room.
On one of my many trips upstairs, I saw our friend Doug and offered sympathy. I had learned just this morning in ladies class that his mother died.
In the dressing room, brand new Christian Jimmie showed me sonogram pictures of his wife’s third baby. The program was delayed a bit when she had to hurry home to take care of their little girl’s minor emergency (one all us mothers of little ones have encountered before). Finally the time came for the children to line up (a term I use loosely) to head into the auditorium. Our granddaughter was about to burst with excitement.
The program was wonderful. If you will give me the liberty to be a doting grandma, our granddaughter’s “Away in a Manger” solo was so touching that even the children on stage stopped to clap.
Only five of the twenty-three or so children who participated have parents who attend our church regularly (two of our grandchildren and three who belong to new Christian Jimmie), but last night many parents and grandparents were there.
One of our church elders drives the van that picks up these children on Wednesday nights. Many weeks he makes three runs before church and three runs afterwards. Ladies from church feed the children a meal every Wednesday night.
Last night the pre-class meal was changed to an after-program reception. As I stood in line for goodies, I saw Ruth come down the stairs, looking a bit pale after her surgery last week. She told me that she is fine physically, but the recent death of a first cousin had gotten her down. The two cousins had just reconnected a little over a year ago. Ruth wasn’t ready to let her go.
Long before last night, church ladies had put together Christmas gift bags for each child. The plan was that we would also give them the Bibles (that I had been writing in during Mother’s haircut). Our best-laid plans for a smooth way to present those gifts turned into something akin to the pre-program chaos in the dressing room; but, in the end, Bibles and a bag of goodies went home in little hands.
Hm-m-m. I wonder if I can find something to do today. I’m glad my life is full of things to do and of people and their stories.
You will make known to me the path of life;
In Your presence is fullness of joy;
In Your right hand there are pleasures forever.
Psalm 16:11
You have just described some of the most important elements that are often missing in Christmas celebrations these day. I wish my mother could have been there for the class and the program. Thank you so much for your families loving attention to her well-being.
Thank you, Mike. I am sorry she couldn’t be there, too. We miss her very much.