Every Family Has Stories Worth Remembering

Pull up a rocking chair. Let me tell you a story.

Every family has stories worth remembering. Some make us laugh. Others bring tears to our eyes. Family history is filled with the ups and downs of life, but I have learned that sometimes the downs become the very path that leads us to the ups.

I witnessed that truth in my own family.

When my father died, I was the only child still living at home. My brothers and sisters were already grown, married, or living on their own. Overnight, my mother’s life changed. She not only lost her husband, but also the partner with whom she had built a life together. Like so many widows, she had to begin again.

She first found work as a ward clerk at the local Charity Hospital. When that job ended, life became uncertain for a while. Then an opportunity came that changed not only our circumstances but also my mother’s life.

She accepted a position as a cottage supervisor at the Ellisville State School, where she cared for children between the ages of five and twelve with intellectual disabilities. Many of the children could not care for themselves. My mother patiently taught them everyday skills that many of us take for granted—how to brush their teeth, wash their faces, dress themselves, tie their shoes, and eat properly at the table.

She poured herself into those children with patience and love.

Before long, she was recognized for her outstanding work. But the greatest reward wasn’t the recognition. It was watching what happened to my mother. She discovered a renewed sense of purpose. She smiled more. She laughed more. She carried herself with a confidence I had not seen before. Helping those children transformed not only their lives—it transformed hers.

Years later, I found myself facing a similar season.

I moved to Georgia with my daughter, Kylene, to work for an evangelist. Just before Christmas, the ministry could no longer afford to pay me. We were down to our last dollar, and there was no food in the house.

I had managed to buy Kylene a pair of jeans she wanted for Christmas.

Without hesitation, she returned them.

She knew we needed food more than she needed a Christmas gift.

The following Sunday, I was scheduled to give my testimony at church. I shared what Kylene had done. The congregation responded with extraordinary kindness. One family took her shopping and bought her new clothes for Christmas. Soon afterward, I found another job, and life slowly returned to normal.

I have never forgotten Kylene’s sacrifice.

Nor have I ever forgotten what I saw in my mother.

Both taught me the same lesson: difficult times do not have the final word. They often reveal the very best within us. Hardship can produce courage. Sacrifice can inspire generosity. Loss can become the doorway to unexpected blessings.

Every family has stories worth remembering.

These are two of mine.

What stories has your family passed down to you? They may be the very stories that shaped the person you have become.