Just wanted to share a little story of myself as a child, growing up. We had a next door neighbor who was wheelchair bound and lived alone. As long as I remember, I would take her water daily - she had no well or toilet - and bring in her mail. I would sit and visit with her daily and fix her hair. I throughly enjoyed those times of looking at all her pretties, sampling her baked goods, and her company in general.
On May Day, I remember picking a bouquet of flowers, placing them on her front porch, knocking on the door, and hiding so she couldn't see me. Although she made a big deal of it, Mrs. Bieke knew it was me! The look of joy on her face is something I will remember always. Rest in peace, Mrs. Bieke =)
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