I am so excited to share another installment of Monday Moments with Mimi with you. Today's post brought a tear to my eye. How often do I rush into a situation, assuming that I know what is going on...but how often am I wrong? I am so thankful for the wisdom of Mimi...Read, share, and enjoy! Shannon :-)
Over the last little bit of
time, several of my precious elderly lady friends have faced and are facing
extremely serious life-changing surgeries. Even in these later Golden Years, they are still approaching
life with a determination that should be applauded. I am privileged to teach the Sunday School
Class that some of these ladies have attended. One in particular from my class
is now a resident at a retirement/nursing home that I am honored to visit on
Thursday nights with our Church Ministry.
In my quiet time this
weekend, praying for all of those precious souls, I was reminded of this
writing that I did several months ago after one of our nights there. Although, this story is not about anyone that
I knew personally, it serves as a stark reminder of how precious and how
valuable the friendships of all these ladies are to me. More importantly I have come to appreciate
how valuable their life lessons still
are for us today.
My Cinderalla Story
Remember the original timeless
children’s tale of the beautiful princess whom the glass slipper so easily fit after
she lost it at the ball. What a captivating
story of a young lass as she quickly went from rags to riches before children’s very eyes, with simply the mere
fitting of a glass slipper placed so tenderly on her foot by the young prince –
only in a fairy tale!!!!!!!!
A few months ago, I was at a
nursing home service where songs were being sung with residents mostly in wheel
chairs. One particular older lady was
attired a little strangely in her dress for the evening, but she was extremely
happy to be there singing songs nevertheless. As a matter of fact, she knew all
the words to all the old hymns and mouthed them as she smiled sweetly, with her
toothless grin. Her slippers were a
little dirty and did not match, and her long sleeve knit top was on backwards
and not buttoned up. It was as if she
were putting it on, to button up her back, and just never finished
dressing. As the program continued, from
the corner of my eye I saw that one bedroom slipper had fallen off her tiny
foot. It was now lying on the floor in
front of her. She continued on singing merrily, tapping her foot in rhythm, but
now with only one slipper.
I was in a quandary as to
whether to cross the floor in front of all and replace the shoe, or just wait
for the attendant to assist. I waited. No one else even noticed. Honestly, I really was not sure how I felt
about putting a shoe on this stranger. But
while the program continued, my need to have things in “pairs” almost overtook my
rational reason for waiting. It’s sort of
like the urge to straighten or “fix” a mirror on a wall or “fix” a lipstick
mark on someone’s tooth!!!! I wanted to “fix”
what appeared not right!!!!
I anxiously kept watching the
face and the feet of the one slipper lady, of whose name I did not even
know. One question plagued me: Why did
I really want to “fix” her shoe? Because, honestly, she was a stranger and who
knows where those tiny feet had been?!
Call it a convicting moment
or just a loss of my selfish arrogance, but it happened to me. My heart felt checked, and my attitude
changed. I could not wait for the program to be over so
I would have an opportunity to return the slipper once again to her little foot.
So, I did. I raced
to her to make sure I would not miss my opportunity to redeem my earlier moment
of arrogance. I even made conversation with her as I knelt to retrieve and
replace the slipper that had only moments earlier made me feel prideful and
reluctant. I then had the privilege of pushing
her back through 2 corridors to her room.
We talked about friends, family, singing, and the Lord…all on our short
trip to her door. I was now pleased with my redemption and my new friend. But, I will never forget the next leg of the
trip - entering her room.
When we entered in her shared
room, I asked her would she like for me to “fix” her long sleeve top the right
way so it would not be on backwards. I
felt the need to have my new friend right before I left her. If one shoe was bothersome to me, imagine what
the backwards shirt was doing to my “fixing” obsession. Her answer was sweet, but swift – a much deserved
sword in my heart. “No thank you, I have a broken arm. See my cast.
It runs all the way up my arm. The
doctor does not think that it will ever heal. I fell at my daily dialysis, and it’s broken
at the shoulder. Dressing like this is
the only way I can wear my shirt so that I can leave my room to be with ya’ll
singing.”
Would you like to re-read her
answer and really feel the sting of her words…this sting that I acutely felt? See, I quickly realized that replacing her
slipper and fixing her shirt was really about what I wanted, and not about what
she needed. The person in the room that needed to be fixed right before they
left was me, was not her.
Granted, that’s not the
traditional Cinderella story, but it’s my story of a lady of royalty that went
from the proverbial rags to riches
before my very eyes and in my very heart. As with the other story, I too had been given
the privilege of kneeling and tenderly sliding on a slipper for someone very special.
So now,
I will wait and watch for carefully the proverbial older ladies in wheel
chairs, with their tops on backwards, sporting only one slipper – they could
truly be a Cinderella of a different kind. In the future, I will race to replace their
fallen slippers, without worrying about their top’s fashion…… and I will be blessed
by their courage, their spirit, and their faithfulness to praise, in spite of
their circumstances. Her story taught me
much more than the story of Cinderella ever will. Blessings, Mimi (AKA Anne)
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