Sarah, the Baptist MK

Sitting on the arm of the loveseat where I always sit, this throw softens the angular edge of the arm.  I was thinking this morning about who made it.  A client I had for years was a single lady who’d never married.  I will use the name Sarah.  She grew up an MK—her parents were Baptist missionaries.  She’d cared for her aging mother, who lived with her, for years.  To occupy her mom, Sarah would go to the fabric store and pick out several pieces of material.  She would cut slits on all the edges and let her mothers tie the knots.  She knew my penchant for the Southwest and native Americans.  When she saw this fabric, she said it was me.  

Sarah worked at the Baptist Sunday school board for forever enduring multiple ‘restructurings’—more commonly called firings.  She was drenched in the Baptist way.  She feared the loss of her job and all that would mean out of concern for her mother.  Over the years Sarah put together a job description of tasks few others wanted.  Her job remained when many did not.  She grew so much during the years I saw her.  She loosened up a lot.  I still recall when she mouthed her first four letter word—what a mark of progress that was!  She began to feel fine with reading books that the Baptist Bookstore would not sell.  She and a friend began to travel, even overseas some.  She began working with stained glass.  I have several pieces she had given me.  

I attended her mother’s 100th birthday party and her memorial service when she passed at 104.  Sarah had her own health problems that eventually took her a few years later.  

Having a career where you get to share intimately in the lives of others, to watch great transformations, is such a privilege.  

The throw reminds me of that often.