Devotional

She was shuffling along, dragging a plastic bag that had been through too many rainstorms. A blanket—faded and frayed—hung off her shoulder like a burden she’d stopped trying to adjust. Her tennis shoes were the kind that had known years, not miles. And her face… well, wore the weight of regret like a second skin.

I’m not a betting person, but if I were, I would say there are more people than not who have had circumstances, situations, or people enter their lives where it became crystal clear you just had to do something to help. Quite often you have the skills, know-how, or mindset to accomplish seemingly impossible tasks. You didn’t ask for the job, but the job got plopped in your lap. That’s where this week’s story leads us … Ida and Louise Cook were unmarried sisters, both in their thirties, who lived with their parents in England. One was an author of romance novels for the equivalent of America’s Harlequin romance books, and the other was a secretary for the London civil service. They made their own clothes and shared a love of opera, loving opera so much they would travel to Germany for the weekend just to see opera there.

Let’s face it – I’m old -- and I attend far too many funerals and memorial services. I attend out of respect for the families and in memory of the people I knew and cared about. Recently I’ve questioned, “What will be my legacy? What can I do that will make a difference?” The definition of “legacy” is a gift that is handed down, from one person to another. But a lasting legacy is more about sharing what you have learned, not just what you have earned. It is more about giving away values rather than valuables. Legacies are not made in a day, or a week or a year. Everything we do or say are deposited to our legacy, built throughout our lifetime.