Jennie walked over to the Adams' the first morning they were back. Aunt Sarah was home from the hospital. Jennie no longer prayed with insistence that Aunt Sarah recover.
Mr. Adams greeted her at the door, cheerful and comforted that at least his wife was home. As Jennie entered the bedroom, she could hardly believe it was Aunt Sarah lying there so helpless in the twin bed. Not having seen her for several days, the change was upsetting.
Mr. Adams stood in front of the mirror, straightening his tie. How healthy and rugged he looked in comparison to the frail, delicate lady in the narrow bed. His silver hair, his ruddy cheeks, were such a contrast to her appearance. Their daughter was with them now. This in itself was an encouragement to both the Adams.
"Father has been a brick," the daughter remarked to Jennie. "He's done everything he possibly could for her. He's been so good to her." Mr. Adams smiled now, aware of the compliment and excused himself.
Jennie moved toward the bed and told Aunt Sarah of her trip, assuring her she was still praying. How hard it was to find the right words. She felt incapable of saying what was needed. There was a shyness and a strangeness within her she could not overcome as she bid her good-bye.
She rose to go. Reaching the doorway, she turned around to see Aunt Sarah, with some of her old spirit, lift her hand out of the covers and half playfully, half in earnest, shake her fist at her. "Why did you leave me?" she asked, referring to Jennie's brief vacation, her big sad eyes filled with hurt.
Hearing those words, Jennie raced back to the bed and threw her arms tightly about her friend, squeezing her hard, telling her how much she loved her. A bit of color came to the dying woman's face. Smiling her old familiar smile, she said, "Now that's more like it!"
Before long, Aunt Sarah returned to the hospital. On this last visit, Jennie found it difficult to even recognize her. She wondered if she had come to the wrong room!
"Here I am," Aunt Sarah called out in a weak voice.
As Jennie hurried to her, it seemed her heart would break. How quickly Aunt Sarah was fading. Sitting beside her, Jennie read a letter of comfort from a friend. "Read it over," Aunt Sarah requested, "I want to hear it again."
Jennie read it through once more. Aunt Sarah looked at her lovingly. Jennie felt she was not being the comfort she desired to be to her friend. But Aunt Sarah graciously settled the matter by remarking, "When you come, you make me feel so much better."
By Lord's day she was gone from their midst, present with her Savior. Now, visiting the funeral home, Jennie found that her fear of death was not conquered. She simply could not comprehend the real meaning of it, only aware that this dear loved one would be laid into the ground. Walking sadly to the coffin, she stood looking at Aunt Sarah with her brown hair combed back neatly. She wore a soft blue dress, the expression on her face so free of suffering. She was one who truly looked like she was only asleep and perhaps any moment would surely open her eyes and smile again. Nothing had ever hurt Jennie quite this much before.
As she fled from the room in tears, her father tried to comfort her by quoting the familiar verses: "The dead in Christ shall rise first. Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together." But she didn't want to hear, she would not accept consolation.
There were strangers at the funeral, many people unknown to those from the gathering. They all wondered who they were until someone explained, "These are the People Sarah has led to the Lord. These are the people she has comforted through the years."
What a tribute to her, far more than any spoken word. Many told of her love and faithfulness, of how they had come to know the Lord Jesus through a gospel tract she had given them or her conversations with them. Jennie learned that often Aunt Sarah had dressed in old clothes like a poor woman and had gone down to the poor sections of town, giving out tracts and talking with those in distress. Mr. Adams found a copy of a letter she once wrote to her dentist, suggesting that he put a Bible verse on his wall so that the fearful patients would have some comfort as they waited their turn!
It was evident that through the years Aunt Sarah had been a busy woman, giving of herself and of her time to the Lord. Someone else told of the patient in the hospital bed next to hers who had recognized Aunt Sarah. This woman had been brought to know the Lord as her Savior years before through her faithfulness. How amazing at the end they should be side by side in a hospital room. Jennie reflected how only the Lord could have planned this wonderful surprise, bringing them together under such unusual circumstances. The many tributes to Aunt Sarah were beautiful to Jennie. She would never forget that she, too, had been given the privilege of knowing her love.