“Of course, we’d be happy to have Pauline stay at our house”. I reply to a request from our minister. We’ve had Presbyterian’s from the Church stay here before and have had some wonderful visits.
Pauline Brown’s visit was to be very special. It was obvious from the first moment that we were going to get along famously. My greatest strength is not meal-planning and the string beans that day were just that … very stringy. She just left the inedible ones on the plate as I had done and devoured the chicken which really was fairly good. Luckily the roast pork the following evening was a rousing success.
Monday night and we were off to the church for her presentation.
She looked lovely in her traditional dress … very east Indian and it was a bit of a shock to those present when she announced that she was not Indian, that she truly was Canadian and had served with the WRENS during the second world war.
Her career as a Nurse had taken her to India 50 years ago and she was still sharing her gifts with the people of Bhil. She talked of the persecution they had suffered and their continuing strength and faith. But what opened my eyes the most was the information that the Presbyterian Church had begun and continued its commitment to the Bhil people all that time. There in the middle of India was a group of people who were fellow Presbyterians…..who considered us their Christian brothers and sisters.
Wow! It sort of blew me away.
This lovely lady with her winsome smile has more than an RN to her name. Although she is shy of sharing it, she has the Order of Canada too (but insists it belongs to the Church she so faithfully represents).
That evening we took her home with us. We sat her in our best easy chair and like proper Canadians we watched the Olympics together. We chatted about the north country and I shared with her my upcoming surgery. The next morning she packed and we drank a late morning coffee together. Then it was time to leave.
It was easy to give her a hug before she left. There was so much warmth in her. Then she leaned over and taking her thumb sketched a tiny cross on my brow. “That’s a blessing for the operation” she said.
Her touch really moved me and I was a little teary-eyed as I waved goodbye.
Yes, my surgery went well and the few little scars I have will always remind me of one of our very special missionary’s who shared her experiences and her love with us, one weekend that summer.
