Molly is my counterpart – she’s the other grandmother of our shared grandsons.
Generous, kind, caring, and thorough, she raised her boys as a single mom out of necessity when her husband died young. They are responsible dads and husbands today, so it looks to me like she succeeded.
Recently retired from a long nursing career, she spends her free time helping others – an aunt, a neighbor, a friend. Her career skills make her welcome everywhere.
This year I had the privilege of witnessing her humanity at its best. Three times.
(First) Kathy had a medical emergency, and Molly called the ambulance, stayed at the hospital night and day, and then camped on the couch two weeks at Kathy's home until recovery was solidly underway. Patient, kind, never a cross word.
(Second) Weeks later we attended a celebration together, when my nephew’s girlfriend, Lynn, collapsed on the driveway. Molly was right there applying her nursing skills as somebody called 911. My nephew’s 13-year-old son Hank is very fond of Lynn, and was beside himself with anxiety, sobbing from the very depths of his being. The ambulance came and left with Lynn inside.
(Third) Seeing Hank’s despair, Molly came over and gently explained why, as a nurse, she felt Lynn would be just fine. Hank felt comforted. Grabbing the hope Molly had given him, he rallied; the tears and uncontrollable shaking stopped. Lynn rallied too.
More recently we were watching our grandsons play Park District summer baseball. We do squeeze some conversation into these sports outings, and Molly told me, “I just ask, ‘Where do you need me today, Lord?’ And I go.”
This touched me deeply. It explained the prayer back of all her good deeds. The unseen order of her ministry comes from her love for her fellow man, and her desire to serve God.
We are of different faiths. And I’m awed as she quietly lives her faith through her good works.
Mary Baker Eddy, the American woman who founded my faith, includes this poem in her autobiography. I'd say it fits Molly:
Generous, kind, caring, and thorough, she raised her boys as a single mom out of necessity when her husband died young. They are responsible dads and husbands today, so it looks to me like she succeeded.
Recently retired from a long nursing career, she spends her free time helping others – an aunt, a neighbor, a friend. Her career skills make her welcome everywhere.
This year I had the privilege of witnessing her humanity at its best. Three times.
(First) Kathy had a medical emergency, and Molly called the ambulance, stayed at the hospital night and day, and then camped on the couch two weeks at Kathy's home until recovery was solidly underway. Patient, kind, never a cross word.
(Second) Weeks later we attended a celebration together, when my nephew’s girlfriend, Lynn, collapsed on the driveway. Molly was right there applying her nursing skills as somebody called 911. My nephew’s 13-year-old son Hank is very fond of Lynn, and was beside himself with anxiety, sobbing from the very depths of his being. The ambulance came and left with Lynn inside.
(Third) Seeing Hank’s despair, Molly came over and gently explained why, as a nurse, she felt Lynn would be just fine. Hank felt comforted. Grabbing the hope Molly had given him, he rallied; the tears and uncontrollable shaking stopped. Lynn rallied too.
More recently we were watching our grandsons play Park District summer baseball. We do squeeze some conversation into these sports outings, and Molly told me, “I just ask, ‘Where do you need me today, Lord?’ And I go.”
This touched me deeply. It explained the prayer back of all her good deeds. The unseen order of her ministry comes from her love for her fellow man, and her desire to serve God.
We are of different faiths. And I’m awed as she quietly lives her faith through her good works.
Mary Baker Eddy, the American woman who founded my faith, includes this poem in her autobiography. I'd say it fits Molly:
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Ask God to give thee skill
In comfort 's art:
That thou may'st consecrated be
And set apart
Unto a life of sympathy.
For heavy is the weight of ill
In every heart;
And comforters are needed much
Of Christlike touch.
A. E. HAMILTON
In comfort 's art:
That thou may'st consecrated be
And set apart
Unto a life of sympathy.
For heavy is the weight of ill
In every heart;
And comforters are needed much
Of Christlike touch.
A. E. HAMILTON
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Related links:
Florence Nightengale
Florence Nightengale
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