about the
mess, but the kids were sick. Forgive the piles of mail, I have had a hectic
week.” And so on. Then I realized that I said that every time she came over.
The messiness wasn’t an anomaly; it was really the norm! But she didn’t
care. It didn’t matter because a perfectly tidy home was not necessary to
be welcoming.
We didn’t always have a nice house or the most organized or neat home, but
I still needed to welcome people. Why else had I been given my home? I think
most of us, no matter what stage in life, can be thankful for our home and can
use it to help someone and we do not need to apologize for it. The beauty of it
all is that God can use imperfect people to perfectly bless other imperfect people
with everyone having a good time in the process!
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CHAPTER 3
Aunt Betty
“Be hospitable to one another without complaint, as each one has received a special
gift, employ it in serving one another, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God.”
—1 Peter 4:9–10
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After Craig graduated from Cal Poly, we moved up the coast to San Jose, where all
good software engineers go. We were sad as we drove up the 101 leaving all our dear
friends behind. I was about five months pregnant when Craig started work, leaving
me to set up the apartment and find my way around Silicon Valley. We only had one
car at the time, and if I wanted to go anywhere, I needed to take him to work each
morning. We had no idea that the San Jose area was six cities all blended together.
We got our first apartment in Cupertino, which was much higher in price. We did this
because the HP site Craig was to work at was in Cupertino. Then, after only a month
or two, we realized we could move a few miles away and pay a fraction of what that
apartment cost. After only about six months and the birth of our daughter, we moved
to San Jose. It wasn’t any farther for Craig to go to work, either. Our new triplex was
smaller than the apartment in Cupertino, but it was more like having a house (with a
garage and a little yard), and it was over twice the size of our first home.
One of the very best things about moving up the coast to the San Jose area was
meeting Aunt Betty and Uncle Bill. They are not blood relations, but they became
family. You may have those people in your life who are closer to you than family
and become embedded into your heart. They were parents of friends of ours from
where we had just moved. I think the very first week (or if not, the second week) after
we moved, I got a call from Betty. She had a thick New York accent. She asked if she
could drive me around to some fabric or craft stores and show me where they were. I
knew no one in the area so I said, “sure.” And so it began.
This petite Italian woman became so instrumental in my life. We became close
friends, not just because she took me places but for what she input into our lives.
She would bring us meals, and she came and walked my babies in the
evenings those first couple weeks after they were born. She did my
ironing and prayed for us. Her husband, Bill, was into model trains and
would take Craig to train shows. We were invited over for Thanksgiving
one year, first time I ever had manicotti with turkey. It’s great!
When Nathan was born a few days before Christmas, we brought him
home from the hospital on Christmas Eve. New baby, biggest holiday of
the year, and oh yeah, did I mention Craig’s folks were coming to visit
for Christmas and to see the new baby in two days on the 26
th
? Well, I
did mention it to Aunt Betty as I was on the phone talking to her trying
to figure out easy meals to make for when they came. She suggested
lasagna. I thought she was crazy since I hardly ever made it due to it
being so time consuming. I told her that and said I hated having to
boil the noodles. She replied that you weren’t supposed to boil the
noodles. What? How is that possible? Then she told me how she made
her lasagna. I was highly skeptical. But it turned out perfect and I have
never again boiled the noodles. Although we no longer live near this
dear couple, they will always remain close to me. I have kept the baby
quilts she made and many memories of those times. And guess who I
think of every time I have lasagna?
Here was a woman who, without ever having met me, reached out
to encourage a younger woman. This is an incredible example of
someone giving their time, and energy to help someone else. I can
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