A Hero

I love being a mother- I love my children more than anything, but I will admit that there are times when I daydream of the day that my children are grown, and my time can once again be MY time. When I can mop my floor, and no one will track mud on it, when I can prepare a meal with no one complaining about it, and when I can spread scrapbook supplies all over the floor and no one will walk on them, rip them or try to eat them! I was thinking about this last night when I had the opportunity to babysit a 5 month old baby for a woman that I visit teach. She is a 70 year old widow, who has been raising 3 grandchildren for 12 years, and does emergency foster care for infants. AND she has been a primary teacher for the 3 year olds every Sunday for about 20 years- maybe longer actually. She has photo albums filled with pictures of infants who were brought to her at all hours of the day and night, taken from unsafe environments. Often they come with no clothes and a dirty diaper. Sometimes they are abused, sometimes they are homeless, sometimes they are premature infants, addicted to drugs- thanks to their birth mothers. She remembers their names and their stories. And she is sad each time she says goodbye to one, but she continues to welcome them over and over. She is not in good health herself, but she doesn't complain. It is difficult for her to get around, and to wake up and feed hungry infants through the night, but I don't think she thinks about doing "what she wants". She looks for ways that she can be useful to others- to her Heavenly Father, and then she goes and does what she can. She is truly an angel to her grandchildren, and to the dozens of babies who she has cared for over the years, and she is a hero to me.