A Katie Story...

Our children's personalities and temperaments are not immediately evident from birth....it's as they grow and develop that the multifaceted hues of their natures are illuminated. Like a prism when hit with light reveals hidden beauty, so it is with a child. After all, we bear the image of the One who created all things. It should never surprise us as parents when we catch an occasional glimpse of the "sacred" in one of these little people God graces our lives with. It's there hidden...you just have to look for it. Herein lies just that kind of story that happened many years ago...

We had been away from home for the holidays, and upon our return were sadly informed  that our elderly next door neighbor, Frieda Steinart, had taken a spill and ended up in a convalescent home somewhere in Fresno. She lived a very quiet existence (except when my two little ones, Jeremiah and Katie were around!) She had hardly any friends or family to comfort her in these twilight years. So it became a treat for us to include her in our crazy family life whenever possible (And boy, did she make a mean batch of persimmon cookies). Sadly, her lonely existence complicated our mission to find where she had been taken and was going to require great effort on my part to find her. We would find her, even if it took visiting every convalescent home in Fresno. So off we set; me, Jeremiah, Katie and her little baby doll (who went wherever she did).

 What I quickly found out was that many elderly find themselves alone in their latter years,  having outlived friends and family, some with no options but to seek refuge in convalescent homes. I had not had much experience with these places up to this point and was really not prepared for what I would find. Most of them were joyless places with many lonely folks, often sitting longingly in wheelchairs (those fortunate enough to be out of their beds, that is). Many seemed sentenced to live out their final days in a place from which you or I would gladly run. There, some patients were often in various states of dress and attire; some in their right minds, though many senile. Not very happy places. On this particular day we arrived at our first convalescent home similar to what I just described, and upon entering the doors, we were confronted by a long stream of elderly people in wheelchairs and in various states of dress, some moaning, some laughing and some quiet. I could feel my eldest Jeremiah's apprehension and fear. He stayed close to me, trying hard to understand and not be fearful.

But my other little one? ...well, therein lies the heart of this story!

I turned, hardly able to move (Jeremiah was so plastered to my leg) to grab my little girl, whom I was sure would also be terrified by what she was witnessing, only to find she wasn't anywhere close by. She had, with dolly in hand, quickly made her way over to the long line of wheelchaired "grandmas and grandpas ", as she endearingly called them. She was in and out of laps, sharing her dolly and charming every person within reach. I was stunned, not sure what to make of what I was seeing. I could hardly keep up with her. I explained our mission to find our neighbor with the staff, and was given the thumbs-up to look for Ms Frieda, barely able to keep up with my little daughter, who had now disappeared into a patient's room.

Upon entering the room, I came shockingly to a halt. There in front of me sitting in a wheelchair was a woman who had to be close to hundred years old. If any of you have seen the movie Princess Bride, the old woman in that show would be a good visual for what was before me now. She was scary looking. And to make things worse, she had an oxygen hose hanging from the tip of her nose. Oh my goodness...gathering my senses after my initial shock, I scanned the room for Katie, thinking I'd better shield her from this.....but it was too late! There she was, standing as close as she could to this old, old woman who, by the way, had evidently just had her VERY long gray hair washed. It draped down past the top of the wheels of her wheelchair. Looking down at Katie, I was expecting to find fear; but the look that greeted me from my daughter's eyes was one I will never forget.

 She looked up at me with the most beautiful expression, and said...
"Mama, isn't she  B e a u t i f u l !! "
I gulped...and was taken aback by my 3-yr olds question. The woman then began to ask repeatedly in a slow, croaking voice to have her hair brushed.
 "Please comb my hair, won't you comb my hair? "
You would have thought Katie had died and gone to heaven at this request!
 "Can I brush her hair, Mama?"
How could I deny her? So Katie picked up the brush almost reverently, and with great gentleness  began to brush the woman's hair, from the top, ALLLLL the way down! It was a precious sight. We lingered with her a while, until every strand was brushed. Finally moving on, I followed Katie as she led the way in and out of rooms, and on and off laps.

This was her way in all the many visits we made, looking for Ms Frieda... love in its purest form.  

 Ms Frieda's absence had provided the opportunity to glimpse something of the sacred,  through the compassionate nature of a little three year old girl.... who, by the way, has grown into a  lovely person who now spends most of her days caring for the physical and spiritual needs of the sick and hurting!

...and for this Mama? Well, she's not surprised

my beautiful girl today


PS... I am very happy to report that eventually Ms Frieda found her way safely home and back into the lives of all who had missed her!