This is a special date on my family’s calendar: my mom’s birthday (1917-1997). Today she celebrates in the beauty and grandeur of heaven, with the angels she so tenderly loved when on earth. Let me tell you about her. She came from humble beginnings, neglected and unloved in the back roads of Texas. She wore cardboard in her shoes, hand-me-downs from distant relatives, and was raised by an adoring but unskilled grandmother. She began high school at 18, when other kids were graduating, after being shipped north to her estranged father. Yet she learned what was important, that God is first. He guided her to a loving teacher, later to my dad who fell instantly in love with her and was devoted to her for their 39 year marriage, left this earth with many accomplishments, rich friendships, and a love for her collection of over 300 angels. She raised four accomplished children, learned how to do about anything she set her mind too, and left a terrific void to fill when cancer took her life in September of 1997. It was the same week Princess Diana died, Mother Teresa died, and our precious Bess Whitaker Ferris died. I miss her because she created legacies in many directions. Today I remember her lovingly.
IN LOVE OF BESSIE
What an angel she was. She shielded those she loved from any outside threat. She protected with her “Sure, you can do it!” attitude, and drowned out the “I can’ts” from anyone who dared think the task too big. She wholeheartedly gave of her talent, her imagination, her love, her concern, and her kitchen treats. She sewed miles of fabric, built livingroom sized kites, piled four little kids into the woody stationwagon to collect creeping pine for Christmas decorations, put on weddings and feasts, and cuddled when the thunder roared. She made home a place of comfort and a place where everyone was welcome. She uplifted the downtrodden and befriended those too proud to know they were destitute. She mothered everyone she knew, for she was a nurturer, a servant-hero, and a true giver.
We remember her generosity, her advice, her problem-solving skills, her abundant good humor, and her willingness to try anything. We remember the times she sacrificed for us. We remember her saying you could either have kids or things, and she made the choice to make our home a place where romping and playing were encouraged. There were few times of “Don’t touch” or “Be careful!” So we innately knew we were more valuable than the vase or the nic-nac. What a legacy!
We remember her kitchen magic. She baked a cake for the firemen when dad’s business was burning to the ground! She entered cooking contests, always hoping to win her dream kitchen. She is responsible for starting the Happy Birthday Baby Jesus tradition in countless homes. Need a wedding cake? She could do it! Who needs chicken soup for the soul? Bess was there with a generous supply. We remember 5 gallon canisters of frozen cherries from the cold storage plant. We remember selling homemade ice cream. She could make a feast from things on hand, and noone ever left her table hungry.
From a beginning with cardboard in her shoes and little education, she literally pulled herself up by the bootstraps. She vowed to make something of herself, and with God’s guidance and her own ingenuity, she not only read books, she created them. Her artistry with sewing, crafts, upholstery, painting, illustrating and inventing remain credits to her.
She not only gave us one loving father, she gave us two. She was a faithful and loving wife twice, and taught us how strong the bonds of marriage were. Her advice to us as we married was, “Think of your mate first!” She followed that advice and wisely taught us to do that too. Her love was not in word only but by example, so we doubly understood.
Her faith and understanding of God’s love were also caught not taught. We knew her profound trust in the Lord’s guiding, and knew the source of her strength. She beamed as each of her children accepted Jesus as Savior. For that was her chief purpose in raising her four children in the admonition of the Lord.
Yet, with her, she takes dreams. She never saw her angel museum. She hasn’t published her book Thief in the Night. She wanted to trace Paul’s missionary journeys. She yearned, just once, to live in a new house. Well, she now has her dreams, doesn’t she? Now she is in the company of angels, and will witness the second coming, not as a thief in the night, but as a heavenly observer. And she’s talking to Paul about those journeys and about hers too. And does she have a new house? She’s walking down the streets of gold and jasper with a strong, new body. She saw her children settled, reveled in their happiness, knew her affairs were in order, and now she’s at rest, knowing there’s nothing she wished for more.
For us, we know the peace that passes all understanding, that hers was a life of beauty and radiance. She left us rich in memories, in examples of how to live an abundant life, and forever blessed because of her presence. We’re all a whole lot better because of her.
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