reaching through time

On Christmas Eve, my 101-year-old great-aunt called to wish us a Merry Christmas.

She’s had a hard year, full of health problems and diminishments. Still, she found time to rejoice over the younger generations’ accomplishments and the blessing of spending the holidays with family.

At one point, she was talking about the things she’s had to give up due to her difficulty in getting around.

“I’m not that fond of that part of it,” she confided.

In nearly 60 years of being her grand-niece, that’s the closest I’ve heard her come to complaining.

That whole generation of her family was like that: stoic, uncomplaining, never saying a harsh word about anyone.  She’s the last of a family of 11 kids, and they all shared that quality of character.

I wonder what gave them that moral fibre. Was it their mother, who they all claimed was a saint? Was it growing up dirt-poor in the depths of the Depression? Was it a deep faith that sustained them through their long and sometimes challenging lives?

I must ask her while she’s still here to share her view.