Miriam: A Shining Light

Miriam (real name)and her husband Dave met when they bumped into each other in their wheelchairs when they were undergraduate students in Michigan. Miriam had dislocated hip sockets from birth which required periodic surgeries thoughout her life. Dave had been wrestling on some steps at his fraternity and sustained permanent paralysis from his waist down.
As a young girl, Miriam used to try hard to "fake" it on physical tests at the doctors so people wouldn't know how serious her pain and health issuees were. Miriam was and is a petite, sweet artistic person.
As she got older, they found the source of her problems and she had to endure some difficult surgeries. She would wait until she was extreme pain before facing the ordeal of another surgery and recovery. While I lived near hear, she had to repeat a failed surgery about six weeks after the previous one - doctor's mistake I believe. She also quietly cared for Dave's special needs. Dave became a Christian counselor and continues to this day his hobby of interracting with people via ham radio. Obviously, both are examples of true heroism.
Miriam likes to paint and write. Even though they couldn't have children, she loved them. She had a special baby shower for our son Dan and listened to my gripes and complaints and high spots as we raised two preschoolers. I remember Dave being at a birthday celebration for Daniel. Daniel, probably turning one, was intrigued by Dave's sunglasses.
After I had Daniel, I felt it was right for her to lead our ladies' Bible study for awhile. I would stay by her side and cheer her on for a change. She would study and try to organize it all week. When it was time for the study, we would share concerns and prayer requests. Often, we didn't get much further. Miriam would start to cry with love and mercy for the women in the group. Then, she would feel bad that we didn't get further along. The women loved her and sensed her genuine care. We learned so much from her merciful spirit.
After we moved, we came through California with our kids and had a meal with Dave and Miriam. After we left, our kids, now quite a bit older, said she "glowed".

The Not So Social Social

I feel a little conflicted about writing this. If you want to give me feedback on it, "message" me on facebook. As I write this I miss Robin and may try to contact her at her old address.
Robin was a good friend. When I met her, I thought she was a very pretty girl who seemed to have it together. She was 40ish, single, had an outstanding singing voice (including for solos at church) and helped LeAnn and I with a kids' group.
Tom went to Portugal for six and a half weeks for a cross cultural internship required with his seminary training. I could have gone along but with a four year old and a one year old, it seemed like it would be more hassle than it was worth. Robin came by often that summer and really met a loneliness need for me.
Let me say clearly that I have issues and all of my good friends do too. Thankfully, we learn to love and accept each other in spite of them.
Robin's issues started to unravel and became apparent in several ways. She had been working for a Christian man but gave him a list of grievances about her job, including needing to empty the small trash cans. She was let go. She (and her birds) stayed with some coworkers/ acquaintances of ours and she seemed upset with them because they had complained about finding some bird droppings. She stayed with us for a couple of weeks (one week or so is maximum for me in most cases now). She was a good guest overall.
She felt strongly about health food and the more I learn, the more I think she was more right about that then we were and are. One day she was upset because she had accidentally left her specially bouth "fertile " eggs at the store. It seemed humorous to us at the time. She didn't really comment or even seem too judgmental as my kids drank Koolaid and ate hot dogs and macaroni and cheese.
At the kids group, LeAnn and I tried to provide healthier snacks, partly to avoid offending her.
One night, there was a social at church. Cake and punch were served. I remember LeAnn and I standing on the steps as Robin approached from below. She "blew up" at LeAnn, questionning why healthy snacks like peanuts, juice..weren't being served at it. We were dumbfounded because LeAnn had nothing to do with th social and we told her that. I am sure I was defensive for my friend LeAnn but don't remember how I reacted.
Robin seemed cool to us after that. At least once before singing a solo at church, she gave an introduction, which seemed to be aimed at slamming us (and maybe at the pastor too).
I asked the pastor's wife if I was reading too much into it. She didn't think so and said something like "I think this is an indication tha you are being prepared for ministry". The pastor's wife was about the age I am no. I learned several tings from her (including to be yourself as a pastor's wife) and this was one of her words of wisdom.

Baby Talk : A Little Girl's Dream Comes True

I am still in the 80's so I have a long way to go.
Katie was six years old. She wanted Baby Talk for Christmas. Tom was in seminary and working part time. I was subbing some but we didn't have the money for the doll.
I was at Katie's pre-school program. I talked to another mother, A for anonymous and because I am sorry to admit that I have forgotten her name. We were talking after the program and discussing Chrismas gifts for our children. She said she was buying her daughter THE Baby Talk. I replied that that was what Katie wanted too but we didn't think we could afford to buy it for her. I didn't really know her so I didn't think much of it.
I was gone one Saturday afternoon. When I returned, Tom told me that A had dropped off the doll for Katie. I am still teary eyed to think of this as I write it. A had been offered an extra shift as an RN and felt God wanted her to take it and to buy the doll for Katie. She told us that she wanted it to be given anonymously to Katie. Katie absolutely loved that doll, panicking at Christmas when the doll said she wanted to be fed and Katie couldn't find her bottle. We listened to it talk through the ride when we moved to Wichita, Kansas not long afterwards.
On a side note: Tom was also volunteering at our church as a pastor in training. The staff decided to split the Christmas gift that year with us. As a result, Tom was able to hunt down a Casey the Robot, Daniel's dream toy that year, on Christmas Eve:).
One other side note: Katie was not close friends with A's daughter, though she was a nice girl. We limited the number of kids that our children could invite to their birthday parties based on their ages. A and her daughter happened to stop by during Katie's birthday party. I felt horrible that the little girl hadn't been invited.

Hair Rollers on a Sunday Morning

This is another story about C. After this one, I may move on to another phase not dealing with prisoners.
We tried to help men and women who had been incarcerated to find jobs.
C got a job at Goodwill. I can't remember how long he worked there but he failed to show up for work and we were somehow contacted. This was before the regular use of cell phones so communication was more limited. We didn't know where he was.
That same weekend, my brother Nick was visiting us from out of town. His car had broken down and he needed to take the bus back home on Sunday morning. We lived in San Bernardino, California at the time, a city of about 100,000. I also normally would have been in church at that time.
I took Nick to the bus station. A short distance from my car, I clearly saw C in a car. A lady with hair rollers exited his car - also at the bus station. How unusual was that?
The following Monday, Tom was talking to C. C said he had been stranded all weekend in San Diego with a flat tire. Tom told him that I had positively seen him and his lady friend at the bus station.
Silence. Busted!
I learned to be somewhat of a discerning detective while in the prison ministry - possibly what I call street smart. I also felt that I had some Divine help for this encounter.

Soap Opera Night at the Bains

This next person is not easy to write about. The next story about C (Tom asked me not to use their names) will have a little humor in it, but don't look for it in this entry.
I never really liked or trusted C. He looked and acted like the type of person you would expect to see as a hardened criminal.
The prison ministry, which we worked with, started because C had assaulted the director's wife and stolen their car. They chose to forgive him, visit him in prison and help him on the outside. I never fully sensed that he was truly sorry and neither did B, another Country western type ex-con, whom I did like and did somewhat trust.
I know it is not right to not forgive. One Sunday, I didn't take communion because I knew I was harboring unforgiveness and wasn't really sorry about it. That day, C wanted to make a special meal for us because it was near my birthday. He also called Tom a "tall drink of water" as a somewhat endearing term. Once when he called and asked for Tom using that phrase, after we had moved, a bit of fear chilled me.
Anyway, on to the main story.
B and C were staying in an unsupervised halfway house (big mistake), an experiment our director was attempting in the ministry. I think they had use of the house without cost.
The director and his wife were out of town. C somehow showed up on our door step barefoot and with a stab wound. I immediately took our little toddler Katie into our bedroom and locked the door.
We found out that C and B had been drinking and had gotten into a fight. B cared about our director's wife and he too felt C was unrepentant about the situation with our director's wife.
We had no credit card and C did not want to go to the police or to the hospital. We talked with our director on the phone and somehow agreed to put C up for the night. It was one of my hardest nights of faith. I knew he was too weak to harm me or our daughter.
We made it through. I remember we had been talking to a relative that evening and he commented that we had a regular soap opera going on at our house. It still scares me somewhat to think of it.
The next morning at breakfast, C tried to blame B for the whole incident. I told him he was at fault too. I am brave at odd times sometimes:).

Seeds of Remembrance

I have to use the real names in my next two entries. No other names seem to fit - and I am quite sure they will never read these.
Rudy was a big African American exprisoner that we allowed to stay with us for two weeks. I instinctively trusted him. I don't remember what his crime had been though he did look straight at our hutch once and said "When you want drugs,you would steal from your own Grandmother". Possibly a red flag.
He was very polite. If he got to our house before Tom, he would wait out in the car until Tom arrived. He stayed in our spare bedroom which had orange shag carpeting.
Some time after he left our home, he started to change, perhaps reverting back to some of his old habits. He was rude to Tom at least once. He came to our home in one of our prison ministry director's loaner cars and asked us for gas money one night, insistent that we give him some money. We had no credit cards at the time and very little extra money. He used the little bit of change that we gave him and whatever he had and drove out of town.
He did leave us a remembrance however: He loved to suck on (and obviously spit out) sunflower seeds and we found those seeds embedded in the carpet in his room for a long time afterwards:).

The Ominous Phone Call

We were living in a small town in Colorado working with young inmates in a nearby prison.
At that time, it was a privilege to make a phone call to the outside. Often, prisoners would ask the volunteer chaplains to help them get a call to their family. They realized that if the call was urgent, it was more likely to be granted.
We had become close to Randy and his wife Sarah. Sarah often came three hours on the bus, sometimes with her two young boys, to visit her husband. She was a smart woman and we sometimes wondered why the two had ever married. We enjoyed vistis with both of them and went to see Sarah at her apartment when we were travelling in her area.
Randy was a pleasant person. He wanted us to be godparents at his younger son's baptism when he got out.
One day, he asked Tom for a phone call, saying that the younger boy Christian had died.
When Tom came home, I was deeply saddened to hear the news. We had company that evening but the news of Christian's death was on the forefront of my mind.
Later that evening, I decided to call Sarah. When she picked up the phone and answered with a light, friendly "Hi" to me, I stumbled for words. I was speechless.
Finally, she asked me what was wrong and I mentioned Christian's name. "What about Christian? He is right here in the crib."
Needless to say (see above story to surmise my temperament), I had Tom call the facility and have a guard get him out of bed to let him know how inappropriate his behavior had been.
After Sarah waited faithfully for him to be released, he got a job at a gas station. One day he drove off with one of the customer's cars.

Memories of Interesting People

The names have been changed to protect the guilty:).
Country Rose :
We lived in a small town in Colorado in the late 1970's and early 1980. We had purchased our first home, a 14' by 70', 3 bedroom mobile home. I was expecting our first child.
We had been trying to help a single lady and her three children. I will call her Cathy. Their rentals had the smell of urine in them and the kids and mother didn't have much. We gave them rides to church..
The mother needed some kind of stomach surgery and we offered to take care of the kids - Tim, Tyler and Rachel. Some of the ladies of the church helped us with food..
Overall, the week we had them went pretty well. A gerbil did escape out of the bottom of our not too airtight door of one of the bedrooms, which the kids were staying in. I remember having kind of a minor confrontation with the older boy about going to youth group or something. (Years later, when we visited, he tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I remembered him:)).
On the last night (we thought) of the hospital stay, Rachel, who was probably a first grader at the time, got sick. She was crying for her Mother. I think she was laying on the couch begging for Cathy. I promised to at least call Cathy so she could get some comfort.
When we called the hospital, we found out she had been released. We ended up locating her line dancing? at the Country Rose. Needless to say, I strongly suggested that she should come and get her kids.
To be fair, she sent us a nice thank you letter years later from Texas, updating us on herself and the kids.