Lois Pecce

writes from Centerville, Ohio.

​Ambassadors of Love

When I worked in a nursing home in New England, a woman faithfully visited one of the residents every Friday morning. She always brought little gifts: books, food, flowers, a new clothing item—always something the resident enjoyed. “Are you her daughter?” I asked her one day.

“No. I’m a friend of her daughter’s. When Marjorie and her husband had to move out of state for three years because of his job, she asked me to visit her mother and do for her what she could no longer do herself. I mend her mother’s clothes; make sure she has what she needs; and of course, try to do a little something extra for her—as if she were my own mother. Marjorie …

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