Emphasis Preaching Journal

I remember with immeasurable fondness an elderly woman whom I loved dearly when I was a small boy. Or perhaps I should say she loved me, for that was how it began. She had marvelous kind eyes which glowed whenever they were cast on me or others in our home. Her questions, softly asked, allowed her to enter my world, to share my excitements, to touch my hurts, to laugh with my joys. She showed sorrow sometimes, but this was always a sorrow at the deep needs of others. It was a form of sorrow I needed to learn.