frozen

The Rev. Lauren R. Stanley

All my life, it seems, I’ve been on mission.

And it’s all my mother’s fault.

You see, when I was a child, my mother was adamant: We were to help those in need, those who had less than we did. We were to speak for those who could not speak, feed those who had no food, give water to those who were thirsty.

Oh, she didn’t preach it in those exact words – that was not her way. What she did was teach by example. When she saw someone in need, or something that needed doing, she did it. Simple as that.

As I got older, she dragged me into the mission field by assigning me to go out and collect money for people in need. Those of us who are old enough remember the days before mass mailings, before the Internet. We remember those little cans, wrapped in the logo of some organization: Multiple Sclerosis Society, Muscular Dystrophy Association, American Cancer Society, March of Dimes, Easter Seals … My job, from the time I was fairly young, was to go door to door in the neighborhood, asking politely for donations. My neighbors would ask me, “Didn’t I just give last month?” And I’d stand there, looking up at them, and reply, “No, that was for Muscular Dystrophy. This is for Multiple Sclerosis.” Never mind that I couldn’t explain the difference; I simply had to do the collecting. Purchase levitra