sleepyangel30
05-22-2005, 12:54 PM
I found this from a magazine called true story. I've been reading the true story magazine's since I was a teenager.
Women Are Wonderful
Social Butterfly
Most people recognize the saintly qualities of someone like Mother Teresa. Sometimes, though, we don’t appreciate the qualities of people in our own family—especially if their good works are done silently.
My aunt had a well-deserved reputation as a social butterfly and she loved a good time. Barely five feet tall, my aunt sparkled with energy and good humor. As a young woman, she played tennis, bowled, danced three nights a week, and bought lovely clothes and jewelry. Unmarried and childless, my aunt worked as a bookkeeper for her two brothers. Her job, though, seemed incidental to her life as a pleasure seeker. She always kept her nails polished and refused to wear slacks or pants—even when bowling. Nothing but pretty dresses for my aunt!
When she quit her job to take care of her ailing mother I was, quite frankly, surprised. But as the only daughter in the family, she was expected to do her duty. My aunt took her mother and I to church every Sunday, even though my grandmother suffered from senile dementia.
Only when I needed help desperately did I learn the extent of my aunt’s true generosity. Hearing from my father that I needed a place to live and had no money and no job, she called and offered to find me an apartment. Undaunted by a town with a ninety-seven percent adults-only rental policy, she found a place for my two children and me. My aunt bubbled over with happiness at our good fortune because the complex had a swimming pool.
Because of this, with gratitude and love, I spent time with my aunt on a daily basis for the first time in our lives. At that time, I was forty and my aunt was fifty-nine. I gradually discovered the vast extent of her charitable deeds. With good cheer, with no sighs about obligations, she visited relatives and friends in the hospital and bought them thoughtful gifts. Four times a year she traveled over three hundred miles to visit a nephew in jail, a drug addict whose own father had given up on him.
My aunt lent money to relatives and trusted them to pay her back. When she heard of someone’s good or bad fortune, she sent a note. If someone needed a babysitter on a night when she wasn’t dancing, she volunteered. She never gossiped, never judged, never blamed people. With enthusiasm and love, she found persons in need and did something about their problems.
She never told anyone else about her actions. I learned about them chiefly because I spent time with her. She didn’t forgo dancing, bowling, or shopping; she just made time every day to extend a loving hand to others.
It took me nearly six months to realize that I was seeing a devout Christian in action. My aunt taught me that charity need not be a dull, dutiful chore, performed at great sacrifice to oneself. This social butterfly graciously did what God asks us all to do—to visit the sick, the prisoners, and to go that extra mile.
As I witnessed the daily outpouring of love that my aunt lavished on others, I became inspired to imitate her as well as I could. Unfortunately, she developed dementia and now resides in a convalescent home. Her bight eyes have dimmed and she recognizes no one in her family. But all of her nieces and nephews visit her, and we try to keep her example in our minds as we, too, extend a helping hand to those in trouble.
—Mary L. Leon, CA
Women Are Wonderful
Social Butterfly
Most people recognize the saintly qualities of someone like Mother Teresa. Sometimes, though, we don’t appreciate the qualities of people in our own family—especially if their good works are done silently.
My aunt had a well-deserved reputation as a social butterfly and she loved a good time. Barely five feet tall, my aunt sparkled with energy and good humor. As a young woman, she played tennis, bowled, danced three nights a week, and bought lovely clothes and jewelry. Unmarried and childless, my aunt worked as a bookkeeper for her two brothers. Her job, though, seemed incidental to her life as a pleasure seeker. She always kept her nails polished and refused to wear slacks or pants—even when bowling. Nothing but pretty dresses for my aunt!
When she quit her job to take care of her ailing mother I was, quite frankly, surprised. But as the only daughter in the family, she was expected to do her duty. My aunt took her mother and I to church every Sunday, even though my grandmother suffered from senile dementia.
Only when I needed help desperately did I learn the extent of my aunt’s true generosity. Hearing from my father that I needed a place to live and had no money and no job, she called and offered to find me an apartment. Undaunted by a town with a ninety-seven percent adults-only rental policy, she found a place for my two children and me. My aunt bubbled over with happiness at our good fortune because the complex had a swimming pool.
Because of this, with gratitude and love, I spent time with my aunt on a daily basis for the first time in our lives. At that time, I was forty and my aunt was fifty-nine. I gradually discovered the vast extent of her charitable deeds. With good cheer, with no sighs about obligations, she visited relatives and friends in the hospital and bought them thoughtful gifts. Four times a year she traveled over three hundred miles to visit a nephew in jail, a drug addict whose own father had given up on him.
My aunt lent money to relatives and trusted them to pay her back. When she heard of someone’s good or bad fortune, she sent a note. If someone needed a babysitter on a night when she wasn’t dancing, she volunteered. She never gossiped, never judged, never blamed people. With enthusiasm and love, she found persons in need and did something about their problems.
She never told anyone else about her actions. I learned about them chiefly because I spent time with her. She didn’t forgo dancing, bowling, or shopping; she just made time every day to extend a loving hand to others.
It took me nearly six months to realize that I was seeing a devout Christian in action. My aunt taught me that charity need not be a dull, dutiful chore, performed at great sacrifice to oneself. This social butterfly graciously did what God asks us all to do—to visit the sick, the prisoners, and to go that extra mile.
As I witnessed the daily outpouring of love that my aunt lavished on others, I became inspired to imitate her as well as I could. Unfortunately, she developed dementia and now resides in a convalescent home. Her bight eyes have dimmed and she recognizes no one in her family. But all of her nieces and nephews visit her, and we try to keep her example in our minds as we, too, extend a helping hand to those in trouble.
—Mary L. Leon, CA