Dear Reader: In 1987 my sister, Phyllis, was not feeling well for some time and was scheduled to go into the hospital for explorative surgery. One Sunday, a short time before she was to go into the hospital, my wife, Barb, and I decided to “farm out” our three sons right after church and travel to Maryland to see her. The Lord blessed us because days later, she died and we were so glad we had a chance to see her one last time. Of my three siblings, I was closest to Phyllis probably because we were closest in age. Following is a true story I wrote about her and her value to me in September, 1987 (with only minor modifications).
During the week since my sister, Phyllis, died at the age of 44, I have had many thoughts about life and Phyllis. Many of those thoughts centered on worthless gifts and priceless gifts which we exchanged over the years.
I can remember in 1962 when Phyllis came into my room at home and said she had something special to tell me. She said that I was the first in the family that she was telling. She was going to get married (the first marriage of my siblings). She made me feel a little special then, as she always did in future years, by confiding in me. Now I don’t want you to think that just because of this that I was her “favorite”. Phyllis had a personality and a gift from God that made everyone feel special or her favorite. Of course, in my brotherly way, I let her know I was excited about her future plans because for me it meant an extra Coke in every carton (there were six in my family and soda came in six packs) and extra cookies in every pack.
Over the years since Phyllis was married, we exchanged many gifts, most of which had some sentimental value and represented our affection for one another but otherwise were worthless. There was the medal I received from Drexel my freshman year for being on an undefeated intramural basketball team – yes, that felt special and I gave it to Phyllis. Can you imagine – not an NCAA championship ring from Kentucky, UCLA or DePaul – but a freshman intramural metal; and it went to my sister! My, what a worthless gift.
Then there was “the tray” from Barb and me a few years later. Phyllis and her family lived in the country in Little Valley, New York, where we drove out to the dump to see bears scavenge for food. The round tray had a black bear on it standing in front of a waterfall. The tray was big enough to hold a sandwich plate but tight for a plate and a glass. Just what every house should have! Yes, another worthless gift, but it seemed to have value at the time. Today, that tray is still on the tray rack in Phyllis’ kitchen.
Every kid should have what I call a “second mother” when small. You know somewhere to go to escape from siblings. I had mine. Mrs. Yingling and I used to talk, dust and do other housework together when I was four to six years old. It’s been about 35 years since Mrs. Yingling gave me a porcelain beagle and its pup. You can tell they’re old because they’re made in Japan, not China. Eight days before Phyllis died, Barb and I went to see her and guess who got the Beagle pup? Yes, and Phyllis had just the place for it on a shelf in her Teddy Bear room. Worthless? Yes, but special between Phyllis and me.
I wasn’t the only big giver. In my early days at Drexel, Phyllis came home for a visit. After she left, I found an envelope on my pillow with a few dollars and change in it with a note to treat myself to a hoagie and soda (you can tell already that she was a bigger giver than I). Yes, the hoagie tasted good and I even had enough left to save the fifty cent piece (and the note) that was in the envelope! Good, but in the scheme of things, still pretty worthless.
Talk about worthless, this next one is as worthless as the bear tray. Several Christmases ago she gave me a bright yellow and black porcelain sneaker filled with peanuts for a gift. That gift has been re-given to members of the family each Christmas since, filled with M&M’s, “the dog shirt” (that’s another story) or other items.
All of the above gifts had some sentimental value or were fun in one way or another but when you really consider them, they were worthless. But then came the priceless gift! It was December 26, 1980. Phyllis took me aside after a family dinner because she thought I was ready. She had tried and tried before and although I guess I didn’t realize it, her “dents” were having an impact. She once again sat down with me and explained how to assure eternal salvation. She told me that there is one and only one way to get to heaven – to admit to God that I was a sinner and therefore I would be separated from God. The only way to be with God after our physical death is to acknowledge that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, came to earth to redeem me. Through my faith in this perfect being, His death on the cross, His shed blood that washed away my sins and His resurrection, I could have eternal life (see the Gospel of John).
It is my hope that you will take some time during this Easter season to acknowledge what Jesus has done for you if you have not already done so. Make this the best Easter ever.
Someday Phyllis and I will be hooking arms in heaven and singing praises to God. May we hook arms with you too?
Jeff Hall, Honey Brook, contributes columns to Tri County Record.
