Little Bricks

I clutch my papers to my chest, there is not one familiar face, and yet I has never felt so at home. The warmth I felt as I stepped into the airy marble hallways seemed unreal. It only became better. I remember her well, years have past, but she is one whom I will never forget. She reached out, loved with a heart so large. One might say she was only doing her job, but I don't think so. The way she loved us, all of us, was more than touching.
As the first day drew to a close, we gathered in that little upstairs room to share our testimonies. She sat in the back; she was really supposed to be in a meeting, but she didn't leave. She said "I couldn't leave. Hearing each of your testimonies was like unwrapping candy--inside each was a different and yet sweet surprise." The tears glistened in her eyes. I could feel her love for us in those words.
Throughout the week, she did little things to bring us to a reality of who we are and who God is. She said one time, "A big house is made of little bricks."
I am not really sure why I wrote it down in my notebook that day, but I did.
I finger the lined paper with the hasty scrawl. So precious it is to me because it shows the heart of a woman who had an inner strength greater than most can even comprehend. She is gone now, finally home, but her legacy lives on. She built up our lives with her "little bricks" and I am determined to do nothing less.

**Picture via Pintrest