What Really Matters

Last week my sister, mother and I attended the funeral of our cousin.  His grandmother and my mother's grandfather were sister and brother. It hurts my brain to try to figure out the "once removed or twice removed" part of that.  I just know he was a relative that we were happy to claim.  And I'm about to tell you why.

He was the kind of guy that you felt like you knew all your life even if you had just been introduced to him.  He was a man of his word and a "gentleman's gentleman" according to one of his closest friends.  Bowen Travis was the kind of man who would go out of his way to give you a hand or help you out when you needed it.  He was the kind of guy who met the day every day with a positive outlook and a favor in mind for someone who needed it.  He was the kind of guy who made you feel like you were important and significant after being in his midst.  And he was the kind of guy who had his share of tragedies, but managed to cope and push through and maintain his sincerity and affable personality. 
At the end of the church services for Bowen, the minister suggested that anyone who wanted to could strand up and say what Bowen had meant to them.  We sat in amazement as person after person popped up from the pews to reconstruct an experience or an event that was special to them.  And it was always the same:  his honesty, his loyalty, his encouragement, and his love for people were his steady characteristics.  There was no mention of how much money he made or the type of car he drove, or his political views.  What really mattered to people were the  kinds of things he did because he had such a big heart, and because he was truly devoted to God.  The minister used Bowen's Bible to give the eulogy, and it was falling apart from use.  Bowen was one of those few Christians who actually lived what he knew to be the truth.  
I'm going to give you one example that stuck with me about Bowen's tender heart.
Bowen's wife, Christine, who passed away a few years before Bowen, was very ill toward the end of her life. She loved a particular blouse and wanted to wear it every day.  So, Bowen would wash and iron her blouse after she went to sleep every evening, so that it would be ready for her the next day.  Even in watching his wife of 60 something years slipping away, he found a way to make her smile.  
It makes me wonder if his encouraging spirit was something that he just had, or was it something he purposed to do?   Something to think about at Christmas time........