Article September 1, 2003 Issue

AT HOME in the love of our neighbor

By Ruth Elizabeth Jenks

THERE SHE STOOD waiting at the street corner. It was Sunday morning and we were leaving church. I had seen her at the service. You couldn't miss her. A rather stocky, white-haired woman wearing a flowing red chiffon dress and a dramatic, large red hat.

I had my two toddlers in tow, and as we approached the same corner where my husband was to pick us up, she turned, and with such tenderness, smiled at the children. I heard myself saying, "How beautiful you are!" Assuming I was commenting on her outfit, she laughed and explained, "I dress for children—they love happy colors."

It was a simple incident. But at that moment both of us had found answers to our prayers—and didn't even know it yet.

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