Love Is Like Ice Cream

This past Thanksgiving holiday I made the two and a half hour trip from Monroe to Etowah to visit with my mom. My mother had invited others over from the community who either had no one coming to visit or did not have a place to go, including her neighbor Dorthy, an 86 year old widow. During other stays with my mom I usually stop in to see Dorthy and bring her meals and talk. She and I will sit in her dated kitchen and discuss life and television programs that disgust her. But all conversations are a segue into her past life with her late husband Tony. She met Tony while he was stationed in Belgium during WWII. In her thick accent she uncovers a love story that is still being written, a tale that seems right out of a novel or off of the silver screen, a chronicle of a young soldier who told a woman he would not return to the states without her, who sat on a couch in front of her parents separated by a language barrier and explained his intentions to marry. Tears are never in short supply while Dorthy turns each page.

After forty years of marriage, the happily ever after tale came to an abrupt halt when Tony went to the hospital one night seven years ago. Because Dorthy was unable to travel easily, my mother visited him and would report back the news each day. Tony did not take to the hospital food easily, so my mom would bring him strawberry milkshakes, something of which he looked forward to each day and would skip his trayed food. After a few days Tony passed away and Dorthy’s storybook ending was crushed.

Seven years after Tony’s death Dorthy sat across from me at the dining room table and shared how she and Tony still held hands up until his death. She ate turkey, stuffing, and casseroles. She gave a traditional after meal blessing in French. And as she ate ice cream for dessert she broke into tears. She said the ice cream reminded her of when Tony was in the hospital and my mom would visit him. Although she misses Tony and is often moved to tears, she shared with me that their time together was one of God’s ways of letting her know He loves her.

Sometimes we take things for granted and don’t see God’s love in every day things or the people we encounter. In some ways these experiences are miracles—they can be God’s way of taking care of His sheep. So how then do we fulfill Jesus’ request to take care of His sheep? How will we answer when Jesus asks us, “Do you love me?” Will we love Him like ice cream?