A LIFE WELL-LIVED

I am not usually highly incensed or deeply offended any more by the vagaries of the liberal press, but when I read this comment recently on the msn.com website, I became highly incensed!! "When asked whom they admired enough to call their heroes, a cross-section of over 2,500 adult Americans mentioned President Barack Obama most often. Jesus Christ and Martin Luther King came in second and third, respectively." Perhaps I reacted to the banality of this poll and the stupidity of 3000 people who consider a politician their hero because a true hero just left this earth.

Etta Louise Smith departed this earth on February 18th at the age of ninety. She has well over 100 descendants--well over. As far as I know, Etta had very, very little of this earth's riches. She lived in a ramshackle little house, earned no real income, drove no car, wore no fancy clothes. She was a plain-looking, soft-spoken Southern lady. She will never make any of the world's fancy lists for hero-ship. Not many people outside our small community or her own family will even mourn that a 90 year old woman has passed from this earth, but Barak Obama, Bill Clinton, movie stars, and glitzy people of all stripes and sorts cannot hold a candle to Etta Louise Smith!

Etta was a true and wonderful Christian; she made her simple life count!! She knew no stranger--greeting everyone who came through the church door with a handshake or a hug. The tallest teenager, tiniest baby, or crippled senior deserved Etta's attention and ministrations. Although she had no college education, Etta knew the scriptures thoroughly and could tell Bible stories with great accuracy and minute detail. She often shared personal stories of her conversion and her struggles in life to uplift and encourage others. Her compassionate service knew no bounds; Etta could always be counted on for a casserole dish, a phone call, or a visit. Etta was devoted to her large family and lightened their burdens when she could. Every year she made treasured, beaded Christmas ornaments for her descendants. I, personally, loved to hear her laugh. Her laugh was infectious and from the depths of her loving soul. One young person said, "I never called her Mrs. Smith or Sister Smith; she was always Grandma Smith." Indeed, she was. She grandmothered us all, regardless of our age!

If someone asks me who my hero is, my hero will not be a politician or a movie star or even the world's richest man, it will be a salt-of-the-earth, come-sit-with-me-and-I'll-give-all-that-I-have saint like Etta Smith.