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“Humble yourselves in the presence of the Lord, and He will exalt you.” (James 4: 10)
My church family recently celebrated All Saint’s Sunday and soon will celebrate first Advent. As we commemorated the saints, we remembered anew who and more importantly what the saints were. Mv sense is that the saints were the too few who acted in ways that reflected God’s love as best and as often as they could. Amid the bittersweet reflections of All Saint’s Day and in hopeful expectation of Advent, I answer knowingly the question of “How has Christ appeared to you at Christmas?”
Christ appeared to, in, by, through, with, and all around me in the life and love of my beloved aunt, Peggy Bolick. Peggy’s life was representative of sainthood. And, in true saintly form, she would have quickly and quietly denied such a ridiculous overstatement.
My aunt never married and never had children although she was devotedly married to her widowed mother and to her siblings, and she loved her nieces and nephews as her own. She thought she was the lucky one to have us. We were the blessed ones to have her then and in our fondest recollections even now.
I warmly open my memory book.
Peggy had an appetite for country-fried steak and orange popsicles, a joy for Sunday bike riding and playing Canasta, and a gift for celebrating a birthday or aiding in a crisis. Her simple life was all about for – living and acting for family, for others, for Christ. Living forward.
Most vivid are my memories of her during Christmas. They were Godly and were wrapped in a unique packaging of home and hearth coupled with humanity and humility. Sounds like sainthood eligibility to me.
From Peggy I learned about a ‘Christmas club’ as she eagerly invested in hers each week. Simply, all year long she anticipated giving. Christmas Eve at Mama Bolick’s house was a feast for the senses, largely from Peggy’s endearing acts of giving, caring, and sharing. Gifts were painstakingly selected with an extra $1.00 in my sister’s gift one year to balance her monies spent. Tasty treats consisted of a canister of home-delivered Charles (potato) chips and homemade chocolate cookies.
Foremost on Christmas Eve I can still see Peggy sitting in “her” chair, the gold one angled in the corner, looking out onto the circus of parents portraying holidaying and of children ripping wrapping. And surrounding her quiet there was a light, hallowed and haloed, with Peggy in her fullest joy – drinking in ours.
Alas, the holiday memories can wax bittersweet. I believe our memories of those who have joined the church triumphant, as Peggy did in 1986, are best served by our focusing on the legacy of good and grace and by our modeling the examples of kindness and selflessness that make days and people better. Like Peggy did.
In our present language and culture, I fear we eschew the words holy, saintly, and Godly. Maybe the examples are too few and too rare, or maybe, just maybe, it’s because the saints and the saintly are disinterested in the labels. They’re way too busy quietly, intentionally, and lovingly doing what they do best - their best to live goodly and Godly.
That said, Peggy qualifies for sainthood. Peggy’s light shone brightly here on Earth. And, now even more brightly as she sits front and center in Heaven’s golden chair.
Dear God,
Thank you for the life and light of my Aunt Peggy whose kindness, generosity, and service were Godly and saintly in praising your name, glorifying your kingdom and living your love in her words and deeds. Amen
William Bolick
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