Church Ladies

From the time that I was a babe in arms, I have gone to church. And over the years I have discovered the influencing nature of church ladies.

My earliest memory is of Mrs. Hoover, a round woman with a large bosom who smothered you when she gave you a hug. I picture her today in a blue polyester dress with an embroidered print. The fabric was itchy and she smelled of Avon bath bubbles. I don't think that she and my family were particularly close. I just remember being hugged. For a little girl going to church, hugs can leave a big impression.

I remember my high school youth group leader, who eventually became a second mother to me. It was because of her support and encouragement that I found the confidence to spread my wings.

Later in life there was Grandma Jane, a recently widowed senior who adopted me and my young children after my divorce. I could call Grandma Jane at 4:30 on any Friday night and ask "Want to have dinner tonight?" In response she would have one of two answers ... "Sure, let me get my pocket book." or "Sorry, dear. I already have plans." At 85+ years old, Jane may have slowed down, but she never stopped.

Today I worship with Miss Betty, who sings in the church choir. Name any ailment and she has had it over the years. Her hands are crooked from arthritis, complicating her daily tasks. But ask her how she is doing, and she'll respond "Oh, I'm here, and that counts for something."

Just in front of Miss Betty in the choir is Geri. Her husband of 50 anniversaries died last year. Her grief was etched on her thinning face for months. I don't think she's missed a Sunday worship service since her husband's death. I can't speak for her, but given their lengthy relationship with the church, I suspect she finds him still there.

My mother is a church lady, helping cook and serve hundreds of meals and lead as many studies or meetings. Her life has not been easy, but her faith has been steadfast.

In all of these women I have found examples of perseverance, strength, joy and faith. And thoughts of them embrace me and leave an indelible mark.