Whatever He Says

 One Sunday morning, a little while ago, I noticed a woman I hadn't seen before and went to welcome her at the end of the service. I learned her name was Wendy, and I recognized her last name, McGenerty, from a church we attended in the early 1970s. It turned out that we had known part of her extended family. Wendy became a regular attendee and plunged into the church's life. She found ways to share her gifts as she loves sending handwritten cards or calling people who need encouragement. She found her niche so effectively that she became someone you never knew you missed until she showed up! Wendy's heart beats with gratitude, compassion, and courage that rises above challenging circumstances. Soon, Wendy and I discovered that we were both 1950 models and born within ten days of one another in June of that year, although separated by the Atlantic Ocean. Our physical proximity diminished when I came to Canada in 1969 as a 19-year-old new bride. I left behind my family, ...

 Family gatherings are always an occasion for reminiscing—and our children, Peter and Brenda, have memories that have morphed into legends.   To start with, there was a uniqueness to our "family." It consisted of our nuclear family plus twelve men who needed support so that they could one day live more independently. After breakfast each weekday, a van would take the men to their places of work, and in the afternoon, around the time the children came home from school when they were old enough to attend; the men would also come home.   In addition to an already full house, one of the children's uncles from England lived with us for two years, and an aunt came each evening to help the men learn the skills they'd need to live on their own and take whoever wanted to go out, shopping, all in turn. Meanwhile, I was always busy shopping for groceries, cleaning, and cooking.   Each year over the college semester, from January through March, students taking the Developm...