On Tuesday, an elder of my church died. I attended the funeral Friday. During the week, I couldn’t help but think of the first time I met Don. I was home after my first semester in China. Although I had visited that church several times since my parents bought the "lake house" that eventually just turned into the house, I really didn’t know anyone. Being the friendly man that he was, Don made it a point to speak to me and make me feel welcome there. He knew what I was doing in China because my parents had told their new church, and probably the second thing he ever said to me was, "Do you need any money for China?" I said yes, and within a few days, the church had given me a check for my airfare.
It still astounds me to think about it. Here was a rare man who gave with both hands and his whole heart, too. More than once at the funeral it was said that Don made better the life of every person in the room, and I have to agree.
What probably seemed a small act to him was very big in my eyes. It reminds me to do whatever I can, no matter how small, to improve the lives of those I love. As some friends of mine would say, at the very least we’re makin’ memories.
That’s my tribute to Don – he made lives better and inspired me to be a better person, a better Christian.
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