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She and my mom were born in 1928, and she turned 93 this past January,  but my mom passed away at the age of 70, and I often think of my mom     

when I think of her. It's not their features, but it's the timelines I see;                                                                                                                  The time of their birth bridging the two world wars. Their times and seasons; 

their rhymes and reasons. And I wonder the pleasure if my mother was here
I visualize the golden treasure my mom would be to all. She would be a pearl 

of great price, a rarity and one jewel of a human being, like this dear one of which I speak who is a treasure. When we were new attendees at our church 

more than 20 years ago, she and her friend befriended my wife and me at our church camp. She may have forgotten, but I shall never forget the great 

fellowship we shared. I recall dinning together and being introduced by them                                                                       to a group of others playing a table game, whereupon we joined right in                                                        

and had a great time of fun with our newly found friends. I tell you, there are                                                               multiple ways that she serves others in our church, but none more public than                                           

that as a greeter. Her name is Iris, and like a colorful blosom gracing                                                                     a flower garden, she stands gracefully each sunday greeting those                                                               

entering the church. I have always put a premium on such great souls                                                               like her and my mom, and I am honored just to be in her presence.

030820PoSp
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