HIS MYSTERIOUS WAYS – BIRTH AND DEATH
We lived on a farm in the mountains of Virginia, and for many years my mother made her home with us. But one morning Mother woke up completely disoriented, and during the years that followed, she grew progressively worse. Her ability to communicate with anyone was gone. I felt numb about her silent condition, as though she were lost to us and, it seemed to me, lost to God as well. On the day before Christmas Eve some carolers came over the hills. The group of young people — led by Miss Winnie and Miss Naomi, two missionaries from our church, and our pastor’s wife Phyllis — sang in the snow outside our door. Then I hustled everyone into our big, warm kitchen for hot chocolate and cookies. I took the three ladies into Mother’s room, and Phyllis leaned over the bed and said, “Grandmother, it’s Christmas.” No response. Phyllis took her hand and said again, “Grandmother,…
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