Miss Lucille was a preacher in Jessup, Georgia. That’s not hard to believe, after you sit next to her in a church service for a while. Where she is usually hard to understand (a combination of her thick southern accent and advanced years), she’s clear as a bell when she recites Psalm 23–“The Lord is my shepherd…”
Paul and I helped Miss Lucille go to church today. It sounds like such a small thing. How hard is it to walk downstairs, holding the hand of a lovely lady? But I haven’t felt much more joy than those few minutes at Westminster Care of Orlando.
We visited Grandma’s House, while we were there. That’s the wing where the children (and their dogs, cats, birds, bunnies and fish) reside. At Westminster, the concept is that a lonely old person can help a lonely young one to heal. So, both kids and adults are on the same grounds. (I’ll rant about how some of the kids wound up there another time.)
Give Kids is the brainchild of concentration camp survivor, Henri Landwirth. He created a 51-acre, non-profit resort for kids with terminal or life-threatening illness to come with their families and visit the Central Florida attractions. There, they celebrate Christmas every day, and ice cream flows like water.
It doesn’t take huge wads of cash or hours of Mother-Teresa-like devotion to make the trip through space on this ball of dirt a little nicer for your fellow passengers. I’m sorry if this sounds preachy, but get out there and help somebody. OK?