Let Them Be Little: NOVEMBER 6

One of the highlights of today was a visit with a darling elderly lady.

Something I have noticed since spending more of my time around the elderly is they are happy to tell a story and they tell it in the same way a little child does; full disclosure, no inhibitions, and completely honest. :)

So endearing.

I love it!

I heard many stories today that spanned the years and miles. Most were stories of family interactions, sickness, difficulties and triumphs.

There was one story that was short, fun and I can share it:

"Don't ask Jonathan if he wants a recliner!"

My cute friend sat on her floral sofa and said she never believed in recliners (take up too much space in the room, bulky, heavy, etc.).

However, her husband had to have shoulder surgery and he was very uncomfortable.

Some good friends stopped by and offered their recliner so he could get some rest.

She protested, but her husband seemed eager to give it a try.

She told her friends she was certain her husband would not want a recliner of his own...they made no sense to her and he knew that.

After using the recliner for some time and finding out it was helpful, she asked her husband if he wanted a recliner of his own. (Again, absolutely certain his response would match her desire).

He said, "Yes! I would like a recliner!"

So, she had to get rid of his chair and her chair and ottoman to make room for a recliner -

and after these years of him using it and even sleeping in it, she said "I still don't understand it, don't ever ask Jonathan if he wants one..., he will, it's a man thing!"

How thankful I am that the Lord placed us here, in this area, near many elderly people and I have had the opportunity to get to know them, serve them and love them.

They are wise, kind, happy and loving. (We have lost several of my little friends throughout the year - that is the only downside to our friendship.)

They bring a bright and happy light to my life.

And they love a good visit!

Psalms 71:9 Cast me not off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my strength faileth.

Although Christmas is not yet upon us - I thought I would share this sweet story of an Elderly woman in Frankfort, Germany in 1945. This story by John B. Matheson Jr. was told by President Monson in Dec. 2010.

"During Christmas 1945, John Matheson found himself serving in the army of occupation in Frankfurt, Germany. World War II had ended about seven months earlier, but during the conflict the city of Frankfurt had suffered much destruction. Most of the city was rubble. Many of the homes which had been left unscathed were taken over for housing the United States military. John and two other officers lived in a three-story house that easily could have served as a home for three families.

Each weekday, John and the other two officers would go to their office and return in the evening to find the beds made and the house spotlessly cleaned by an elderly German woman who was hired by the United States Army to be housekeeper for a number of houses in the area. Only occasionally would they see this frail little lady as she busily engaged in her tasks. Their conversations with her were limited, for she spoke no English and their German was poor; but through a sort of sign language and through smiles, they indicated satisfaction with her work.

Weekly, John went to the post exchange to get his ration of candy bars, soap, and incidentals. Though he sometimes grumbled about the poor selection available, he always purchased all he was allowed and put the excess into his footlocker.

As Christmas approached, John thought he should give some gift to the housekeeper; so from the abundance of his footlocker, he filled a large cardboard box with candy bars, soap, and cans of fruit juice. He knew that in the system of barter among the Germans, his gift to her was worth many, many dollars, but the cost to him was negligible.

Knowing she would not work on Christmas Day, as John left for the office on December 24th, he placed on the table where it would be seen his gift box and a Christmas greeting. All day he felt rather smug as he thought of his generous gift. The housekeeper would be like an heiress in the poverty of her neighborhood. How lucky she was, he thought. How beholden she would be to him—to the generous American. And yet his gift was not given in compassion but merely out of pity and for self-satisfaction.

As he approached the house in the darkness of the December evening, he saw the dim glow of the lamp filtering through the window. The house was still. He entered the home and saw that his gift and the recipient were gone. However, in the glow of that lamp, he saw on the table her Christmas note and her gift to him. He had expected no gift, but there it was—all she could afford and given in the spirit of Christmas.

What could a poor little old lady give? She could give from her poverty and from her heart her fondest memories of her beloved city of yesteryear, and she could give the Christmas star.

On that dimly lit table, along with her painstakingly written “Merry Christmas,” were 10 old and dog-eared picture postcard scenes of Frankfurt as it had appeared before the war had so devastated it. The housekeeper had placed each card on edge and fastened them together so that every 2 cards formed a point and all 10 together formed the Christmas star.

She had little to give. In fact, it was all she had. Though John Matheson lived to see many more Christmases, that little housekeeper’s Christmas star shone brightly throughout his life. He said that her “star of Bethlehem” implanted within him the Christmas spirit and taught him the true meaning of love and giving."