"Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things." 1 Corinthians 13:4-7
One of the life memories I most enjoy revisiting is an afternoon spent, over a decade ago, with a group of long-term-care residents in the flower-filled courtyard of their nursing home. It was a delightful time of fellowship with people who have only one major thing in common -- the fact of having likely reached the last stop in long lives, well lived.
If I had to sum up what I witnessed in just a couple of words, it would be just this: agape love.
One of the things that I'll never forget is how compassionate these people were, how forgiving of each other's limitations.
For example, one dear woman repeated herself again and again. No one mentioned it; instead, they responded as if they were hearing her comments for the first time, every time. This patience didn't hurt them one bit, and it made the speaker feel that she was contributing to the conversation. Perhaps they were all simply good-hearted; perhaps they were all too aware that they could be doing the same thing a month or year down the road. When the outcome was so charitable, their motives didn't really matter.
Another very sweet woman was having a terrible time completing any sentences. The others stepped in to help her find the words she was looking for; their interest and assistance were obviously very welcome.
At one point, one or two of her friends began complimenting this same woman on how attentive and devoted to her well-being her children were. They agreed, one and all, that she was among the most fortunate and beloved of all.
She beamed.
Joining us halfway through our time together was a 70-something man who'd been there for months recovering from major surgery. He was an amazing fellow. He was not simply friendly to his elders in the "hi, how are you?" sense; he treated them all as his companions and contemporaries.
This man actively engaged even the shyest residents in conversation. He remembered to ask follow-up questions about the events of their lives, from a bout with a cold to a child's job search. He teased many of them -- something that is pretty rare in a nursing-home setting. He talked with them about a wide range of topics, including current events and spirituality; he never equated great age with stupidity. And indeed, lively conversation seemed to ensue whenever he turned up.
Agape love is, among other things, unconditional and self-sacrificing, patient and kind and utterly devoid of pride. And it's just what I saw in overdrive in the courtyard that afternoon so many years ago. What treasure! And it's available to this day, to anyone who can find a little time to spare for these wonderful old folk.
One of the life memories I most enjoy revisiting is an afternoon spent, over a decade ago, with a group of long-term-care residents in the flower-filled courtyard of their nursing home. It was a delightful time of fellowship with people who have only one major thing in common -- the fact of having likely reached the last stop in long lives, well lived.
If I had to sum up what I witnessed in just a couple of words, it would be just this: agape love.
One of the things that I'll never forget is how compassionate these people were, how forgiving of each other's limitations.
For example, one dear woman repeated herself again and again. No one mentioned it; instead, they responded as if they were hearing her comments for the first time, every time. This patience didn't hurt them one bit, and it made the speaker feel that she was contributing to the conversation. Perhaps they were all simply good-hearted; perhaps they were all too aware that they could be doing the same thing a month or year down the road. When the outcome was so charitable, their motives didn't really matter.
Another very sweet woman was having a terrible time completing any sentences. The others stepped in to help her find the words she was looking for; their interest and assistance were obviously very welcome.
At one point, one or two of her friends began complimenting this same woman on how attentive and devoted to her well-being her children were. They agreed, one and all, that she was among the most fortunate and beloved of all.
She beamed.
Joining us halfway through our time together was a 70-something man who'd been there for months recovering from major surgery. He was an amazing fellow. He was not simply friendly to his elders in the "hi, how are you?" sense; he treated them all as his companions and contemporaries.
This man actively engaged even the shyest residents in conversation. He remembered to ask follow-up questions about the events of their lives, from a bout with a cold to a child's job search. He teased many of them -- something that is pretty rare in a nursing-home setting. He talked with them about a wide range of topics, including current events and spirituality; he never equated great age with stupidity. And indeed, lively conversation seemed to ensue whenever he turned up.
Agape love is, among other things, unconditional and self-sacrificing, patient and kind and utterly devoid of pride. And it's just what I saw in overdrive in the courtyard that afternoon so many years ago. What treasure! And it's available to this day, to anyone who can find a little time to spare for these wonderful old folk.
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