There is an eighty five year old man who attends church with us. When we first started going to church there, his wife was with him. She was a little woman and wore red lipstick, her cheeks were colored brightly, and her hair was always hidden beneath a turban-type cover; traits which gave her character without words. Mr. T always opened the truck door for her and people often saw them in Wendy's, where he would seat her and then go order their meal. They had no children.
The last time I saw her was in the hospital; I didn't know she was there until I heard him talking to her, so I peeked in to see if it was a good time to visit with her. He asked me to come in and told her I was there. She gave no response and had he not been in the room, I wouldn't have known her; the turban wasn't covering her thinning white hair and her face was pale. She passed away a few days later.
Time seems to have helped heal his loneliness; he still comes to church and every Sunday he says the prayer before the sermon, always, always, praying for our country, our leaders, our military men and women, and that we will all grow to be "more like the gentle Jesus."
There were times when I saw him give a piece of jewelry to some of the women, and a week ago he told me, "I don't mean to leave you out; I just didn't know if you wear rings." So I was totally honest and told him since arthritis has made my knuckles large I don't wear rings; even my wedding ring has been put away. Last Sunday, he was waiting for me at the door with this:
Now when you get as old as I am, any little gesture of kindness means so much. I told him, "This is one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me," to which he replied, "I bet your husband gets you things nicer than this." I laughed and said, "He buys me farm things, like tractors, not jewels."
Somehow, his kindness comes straight from the Bible: "Be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you." Ephesians 4:32
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