The old spinster loved us as though we were her own grandchildren. Her pantry always smelled of cookies and her parlor was filled with missionary memorabilia.
Her house was a spooky-looking monstrosity, sitting alone on a rocky hill. For a wide-eyed seven-year-old boy, going over to her house was an adventure. Mom would take us two or three times per year. We were warned to be on our best behavior. I didn’t listen.
Years later, I learned the rest of the story. There had been a conflict between the old lady and my parents. Bitter words were spoken. My parents suffered deeply from reckless rumors. Though Mom and Dad were open, there was no reciprocal desire for reconciliation. The old lady held a deep bitterness, but she missed our visits. Through a friend, she let it be known that she would like to see “the children,” and, for years, my mother took us for regular visits.
Mom knew how much those visits meant to an aged, embittered, lonely lady. She put her feelings on the shelf and offered kindness to an adversary. That lesson has endured while others have been forgotten. Adversity is a prime opportunity to show the world God’s grace.
Reposted with permission from onehope.net