Yesterday was our monthly trip over to a nursing home in the twon next to us. This one was special because Christmas is upon us, and it brings a mixed bag of emotions with it: especially for people who are in poor health and nearing the end of their life. Ruth and I have been going there for close to four years now. We started out supporting the pastor of a local church we attend irregularly. I would do two or three songs, the Pastor would do a short sermon, and Ruth would socialize with the residents. When the Pastor retired and moved away, Ruth and I kept it going for almost two years. For the last few months, the new Pastor of the church has joined us, and he's become well-loved by the staff and residents. Over the last four years, Ruth and I have gotten to know many of the residents, and we look forward to seeing them as much as they do to seeing us.

After the service yesterday, Ruth, Pastor Ken and I went around the room, shaking hands with the residents, telling them that we'll keep them in prayer and wishing them a Merry Christmas. I always am moved when I go to shake a hand, and the person doesn't want to let go. They may not be able to talk, but they just look into my eyes, theirs often brimming with tears, and smile at me. That was especially true, yesterday. And then, there are all the people who start crying and ask for prayers. A simple act of going and playing a few songs and walking around to talk with people means everything.
One of the women repeatedly says that the only thing she looks forward to is when I come to sing, once a month.

Tomorrow, Ruth and I will join Barbara Shaw (of Mudcat) and her husband Frank and a handful of friends to sing Christmas songs at a Veteran's Administration center. We try to clear the decks early enough in the season so that we can give something that can't be wrapped and put under a tree. The gift of caring about a stranger.

Jerry