A Story

I spoke with my sister last night.

She reminded me about something my father had done years ago.

And she recounted a family story that I had forgotten. An important one. One that defines my Dad. One that shows how to act, how to respond and how to think, to subsequent generations of our family. A reflection of values and integrity and compassion. And I had forgotten, it had become buried in my subconscious.

And I remember God exhorting his people to remember. Remember their story and tell it during their festival. Their feast of Passover. "And it shall be when your son asks you in time to come, saying, What is this? that you should say to him. By strength of hand the Lord brought us out from Egypt, from the house of bondage......" Exodus 13:14. And they were to go through this story telling and showing by the unleavened bread and bitter herbs, the love of their savior, who lead them out by a strong arm. "You should therefore keep this ordinance in it's season from year to year." A rememberance. A telling of the story and the experience to their children. Oh yes, that is who we are, that's what our family experienced long ago. That is where we come from and He is the one who has saved us and sustained us, not we ourselves.

My dad worked in a bank in lower Westchester for his entire career. He became president at the end of his tenure and retained this position for his last ten years.
One evening during that time he sat at the dinner table with my mom and sister and told them:

"The trustees of the bank approved the raises for all the employees today. I declined my raise and asked if they might apply it to the tellers at the bank."

"What?" replied my mom. "You are the one that is responsible for all the decisions and for the success of the bank. You are entitled to that raise."

And with a soft rebuke he responded, "Ruth, we have all we need. We have more than enough. We have a lovely home, we belong to the country club, we have two functioning cars, we enjoy plenty of food, we have healthy children, we go on vacations. I am going to share my blessings with those who may have trouble paying their mortgage, or getting enough food for their families."

And that was all that was said. And so it was. And I am glad that Joan and Dad reminded me of who I am and where I have come from. Blessed of the Lord.

Easter, a time to remember and to rehearse our heritage. A time to tell THE story. What our Father did for us. The story of how we were rescued and restored. A time to remember and talk about Him. Our salvation and deliverance, something we could not do ourselves. And we are reconnected with our heavenly Father, because of what his son did, and we have fellowship again.