Priceless...

She stood no taller than 5 feet six inches and weighed less than 125 pounds. She came from humble beginnings and spent most of her youth working hard to provide for her only child by herself. On a modest paycheck, she did her best to provide a roof over their heads and clothing on their backs. As her child grew older, she quickly became known as the popular mom on the block because she provided a safe and fun environment for the neighborhood kids to escape the vicious streets of West Philadelphia. As she got older, she gave all of what little she had just to put smiles on her grandchildren’s faces. And although she wasn’t exactly overflowing in financial abundance, she was filled to the brim with something far greater than anything else. Love.

That was Ms. Ross. When my best friend first introduced me to her grandma, I felt like we already met because of all the stories I heard about her copious generosity, love and unforgettable punch lines.  Ms. Ross’ reputation definitely preceded her, and as the years began to pass by, I witnessed first-hand a woman whose love penetrated deeply into everything she did. This lady, who was well into her seventies, never considered it a burden to load up her car with her bright red suitcases and drive more than 150 miles by herself just to be a part of every special moment her family encountered. From graduations to birthdays to Easter dinner, we all could count on seeing those red suitcases sitting at the front door. Whether it was a special occasion or not, Ms. Ross always knew how to show her love and guess what – it didn’t involve a dime.

Last month, we all said goodbye to that sweet lady. At the homegoing service, I found myself reflecting on the legacy that Ms. Ross left behind and the impact she made on the lives of everyone she encountered - - without money. It made me think of how we all can get caught up in our obsession over money and “things.”  For me, this obsession started early. As a child, I remember resenting my aunts, uncles and even grandparents because they were unable (or unwilling) to give me things like my parents did.  And because so much emphasis was placed on who gave what for each occasion in my life, I thought that was the only acceptable way to be loved. Of course, there were some relatives who did give me things but spent no time with me. Those relationships were built solely on the money they spent. Once I became an adult, I found out later that their presence alone would have meant much more to me than their presents.

If I could go back to my childhood, I would have shared with my family that they didn’t need to buy me something in order to be a good auntie, grandma, and so on.  Now I understand that just seeing their suitcase at the front door would have been all I needed. As I said goodbye to Ms. Ross that day, I was reminded of God’s command to love others.  I too, want to be known for how much I loved, not by how much money I gave. I want Christ's love to be evident in the way I live my life--not just by the words I write. When we leave this earth, we can’t take anything with us and eventually, our possessions will fade away. But the way we treat others will live on forever. And it doesn’t have to cost a thing.