"You're one of my heroes," I say, knowing Marjorie will burst into loud, infectious laughter.
"Good morning, my dear one. How are you today?" she always greets me, collapsing into a chair, ready for her piano lesson. She hands me her books and begins to play an old hymn. Arthritis and age have twisted and gnarled her hands, but the music comes from her heart. Her fingers become a part of the instrument as sweet music fills my home..
"I love those old hymns. Never forget them." she laughs, after a hymn or two played by ear. "Alright, Girl! Now, teach me how to play this piano right. I've spent hours in practice. You're going to be so very proud of me."
She studies diligently, learning the names of the notes she has been playing by ear for well over half a century. It's her way to rest from work. For a couple of hours each afternoon she plays her assignments over and over again.
Most of her days are spent raising a grandson and caring for an elderly neighbor who is twenty years younger than Marjorie. She studies the Word of God long past midnight, preparing sermons for her church on Sunday. Besides cleaning her house, mowing her yard and working with people who live in poverty and weariness, she visits a prison every week.
"I don't have a real big ministry," she explains. "I just go around seeking out the lost and seems like I always find some. I just encourage folks. That's all."
It is common to believe we must have an opinion on every issue and tragedy in our news focused world. People complain about the world around us, about the weather, the cost of food and gas, or how often we all complain rather than give thanks.
When we stop wasting time wondering where the heroes have all gone, we find them. And, more importantly, we are inspired and motivated by them.
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