This story appeared in a church bulliten in AL. It was written by the preacher.
It is about my mom and the impact she had on his family many years ago.
"It has been over thirty since B was converted by a coworker. She was a very young woman then, so shy that she could scarecely look anyone in the eye or raise her voice above a whisper. Soon after her conversion, that same coworker introduced her to her to D.
B and D fell in love, were married and had two little girls. (one of those was me!)
While B worked, a non-Christian family related to the coworker, took care of her girls. As a result, a close friendship developed between B and this family.
By the time the girls were school age, they were no longer in regular contact with the non-Christian family. About this time, B learned that she had terminal cancer. Meanwhile, the non-Christian family went about their lives, giving little or no thought to God.
One rainy night, the doorbell rang at the non-Christian family's home. The teenage boy living there answered the door to see the diminutive B wet and shivering on the porch. She asked the boy to go and get his parents and sister because she had something important to tell them. As he let her in, the boy noticed that B was shivering as much from fear as from cold.
When the entire family assembled in the living room, B began to speak in a quivering yet louder and more purposeful voice than any of them had ever heard from her.
"I came to ask you to foregice me. I have known you all of this time and have not spoken to you about the Lord. Now I am dying and I want to beg you to please consider that Christ died for you and that you need to begin living for Him before it is too late," said B through tears that bordered on sobs.
After extending a polite "thank you" to B, she left. A few months later she died, leaving behind D and their two school age girls. At her funeral, the non-Christian family wept along with others, yet without the underlying joy expressed by B's coworker and fellow Christians. How can they bear such a tragedy as the loss of a young woman with children she will never see grow up, thought the teenage boy.
"Wasn't it a kind thing she did, coming to our house that night," each family member recalled. Each agreed it was the kindest thing they had ever seen anyone do for them.
Each of the four family members B went to visit that rainy night has since been influenced for good by many others. Yet each still recalls her beautiful act whenever anything brings it to mind.
Ten years after B's death, the teenage boy who answered the door the night of her visit was baptized into Christ, specifically recalling her deed. The next year, both of the boy's parents were baptized into Christ. And twenty years after her parents, and thirty years after B's death, the boy's sister was baptized, also recalling B's visit. All who heard B speak that night are now faithful Christians.
I am the teenage boy who answered the door. And what B did for my family over thiry years ago is still the kindest and most courageous deed anyone besides the lord has ever done for me.
I will never forget her, nor will I let anyone else forget. By the way, her favorite hymn was "Fairest Lord Jesus." It is mine too."
May 11, 2003
I hope this precious story plants even more seeds today....