And those thoughts brought floods of memories of my Grandmother and her generation. I remember staying with her in the summer and having to be really quiet starting at about 8 o'clock in the morning until the funeral hour was over on the radio. As soon as it was over, her phone line was busy as she called friends and neighbors to organize a meal plan.
I never really understood why they had to call one another, you see, they were connected and knew of any sickness within the area. They would have taken flowers from their cutting gardens and vegetables from their vegetable gardens for some time already.
But occasionally, there was the one situation where even my Grandmother would have been caught off guard.
As I thought of my Grandmother, I remembered her baking cakes, pies or fixing a pot of soup when a neighbor had a "rough spot" of the kind a little girl just might not have understood at the time.
And I especially remember the night our neighbor's house caught on fire and quickly spread to their barn. The men rushed to help put the blaze out while the women gathered blankets and jackets and brought the wife and children to our house for the night. It was what neighbor did and I sure hope that kindness to others hasn't died with my Grandmother's generation. I'll admit though, I am not as quick to help as she was. I wish I weren't.
Which brings me to Erika, her family's house burned to ashes this past week. Her post of the event had me weeping for her loss and praising God for her blessings. She's fortunate for all of her family to be alive. The situation could have been so much worse. And thankfully, her friends have rallied around her with immediate help. They've established a site and allowing us to help as well. Even though we are many miles apart.
If we were closer, I'd certainly want to do more physically for her family. But for now, this is the best way I can help her.
Will you keep Erika's family in your prayers?
