In the Palm of His Hand

There was one person in my life that I never knew. Everyone used to tell me how much she was like me, and I hated it. Her name was Elsie Margaret Grant, and she was my mother. She die of Breast Cancer in 1964, at the age of 36. I was only 3 years old, and for nearly 25 years I lived with this bitterness - a mother who had left me, who had made my early years hell because I she wasn't there, and a mother who had left me this legacy of an early death.

Recently I found part of the eulogy that was read at her wedding:

"She had a very happy nature. Her attitude was, `don't complain, there are others worse off than myself. Don't fuss over me. She would pass people and say hello to many strangers. He sister once asked her why, and she said, "I don't know why, but isn't it great to smile and to make new friends."

She was always laughing and smiling. I don't ever remember her crying or complaining. She was always in a light of pain, but her response would be, "Jesus is bearing my pain" On the night she died, the last question she asked of me (her sister) was "Have I done enough. I will only go if I know I have done all I can for the Lord." "

Soon I will celebrate my 50th birthday. The only woman in my family to have lived that long. You see that legacy of death was something I needn't have feared, because instead my Mum has left me with a legacy of life- a legacy of love., of joy and of service for the Lord. He hasn't finished with me yet!!


WHERE DO YOU LIVE?

I know a man, his name is horner.
He used to live on Grumble Corner.
Grumble Corner in Crosspatch Town
And his face was never without a frown.

He grumbled at this, he grumbled at that
He grumbled at his dog and he grumbled at the cat.
He grumbled in the morning, he grumbled at night
And to grumble and growl was his chief delight.

He grumbled so much at his wife that she
Began to grumble as well as she.
And all the children, wherever they went
Reflected their parents discontent.

If the sky was dark and betoken rain
Mr Horner was sure to complain.
And if there was never a cloud about
He grumbled because of the threatened drought.

One day as I loitered along the street
My old acquintance I chanced to meet.
His face was without a look of care
And the ugly frown that he used to wear.

"I may be mistaken, perhaps I said,
As after saluting I turned my head,
"But it is - and isn't it - that Mr Horner
That used to live on Grumble Corner.

I met him the next day and I met him again.
In melting hot weather and pouring rain.
When stocks were up and stocks were down,
But a smile had somehow replaced the frown.

Dorothy Gaunson