Today Sandra Robbins shares a story about her mother. Here’s Sandra:

“A few years ago my grandson asked me a question that made me smile. With the true innocence of a child, he looked at me and said, “Were our ancestors the ones who lived on the plantations in the old South?”

I struggled to keep from smiling as I replied, “No, you’re not descended from material wealth, you have something even better. Your ancestors who scratched out a living in the rich soil of the South left you a heritage of love of God, love for family, and a work ethic that makes you productive.”

These traits have always been most evident in my mother. Raised as the daughter of sharecroppers during the Depression, she dropped out of high school to marry my father. She never had a diploma, but she was the most well-read person I ever knew and could discuss any topic.

In her early twenties, however, she experienced something that threatened to end her marriage. She was a young wife and hadn’t traveled much from her familiar surroundings of the rural South. When my father was struck with mastoiditis and an abscess on the brain, she found herself alone and plunged into the world of a big city hospital among strangers. She was scared and knew the life she’d envisioned with her husband might end. As my father hovered between life and death, this young girl turned for strength to God.

When despair threatened to overtake her, someone would pop into her life, and she knew they’d been sent by God. One person she often spoke of was a woman who appeared one morning and insisted they go downstairs to have breakfast together. She’d hardly left the room since she’d arrived, and the invitation came at a time when she needed a break. Another time she heard a slight cough in the hall and threw the door open to find her brother standing there. He’d driven the long distance in a farm Jeep to bring their parents to spend some time with her.

As her husband improved, she heard the doctors tell him he lucky was to be alive. When he was dismissed from the hospital with his head swathed in bandages, this young girl made all the arrangements for their return home by train and delivered him safely.

With my father’s life spared, they went on to have four children and were married for sixty-two years. My mother never worked outside the home, but she had a ministry. After her experience in the city, she learned to drive, and her car became known by everybody in her town. She was always the first to arrive with her car’s trunk loaded with food when death or illness struck a family. She went on to serve as first lady in her town and her county as my father attained various elected offices. But she never forgot the days when she sat by her husband’s bedside and trusted their future to the Lord they served.”


Thanks for sharing, Sandra–Lyn