The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?

Like Sarah, Abraham’s wife, Mary follows me wherever God commands me to go. She not only goes with me, she also fully participates in mission. When persecution comes, she tends to be hurt the most. Being more traditional than I am, she is more hurt by the departures. Being also one of the most hospitable ladies who I know, she is more hurt when economic hardships strike. I have always been surprised by her nurturing and hospitality. Astonishingly, on several occasions Mary begged to have something to give. One of the places she begged was a retirement home where she worked. They had more doughnuts than they could consume. She was given the leftovers for her Sudanese, Congolese, and Mexican children. But what made her a saint was when she suffered depression, she was laid off. When she got better, she went back to the same home to beg doughnuts for her international children. Interestingly, the children believed she owned a doughnut factory. The Cuban poem below describes Mary’s hospitality.

My hands are empty.
They always give When there is nothing to give.
Oh, but what is to be done They are the only hands I’ve got.