Nancy's Freedom

We had a dear friend pass away a few weeks ago.  This was a lady who was the mother of a friend of ours and who stayed with us for a week last summer while we were trying to find her a home.  She had lived a hard life, and that life had really taken its toll on her body.  It was really a shock, though, to hear of her passing.  Every week when my husband and I would go to meet with her daughter and son-in-law, we would see her.  She was in a lot of pain, but always greeted us with a smile and a hug.  She usually wanted us to pray for her.  We would often pray for God to heal her and to take the pain away.  We would also pray that God would draw her closer to Him and that she would experience His peace and comfort.

Nancy had made a confession of faith in Jesus many years ago.  Though she had a lot of struggles in her life, I am grateful for the time we got to spend with her during the week she stayed with us, because I was able to see evidence of a sincere faith in Christ.

Nancy loved to sit outside on our deck everyday and watch the wildlife. One day, while we were outside, a yellow butterfly flew past us.  Nancy smiled and said,"Freedom . . . a butterfly represents freedom."  At that time, Nancy didn't have a lot of freedom.  She had no home, and she couldn't stay with any relatives in town because of legal reasons.  Furthermore, she was trapped in a body with physical disabilities that prevented her from living the life she longed to live.  She also had a limited income that prevented her from doing things she wanted to do.  A free spirit by every sense of the word, she wanted her freedom more than anything.

Nancy had really made an impact on my kids, especially Emma. I have never seen her grieve so deeply about anyone's death before. The day she passed away, Emma composed the following poem about Nancy.


Nancy’s Freedom
By "Emma"

Not long ago, you and I
Sat on our porch on a day in July.
You stopped conversation when you saw a yellow butterfly.
“Freedom” you whispered as a smile crossed your face.
“A butterfly can go anywhere, can go anyplace.”
You didn’t stay at our house long, to the hospital you went.
Your words impressed upon my heart and there they left a dent.

What is this concept, freedom? Why do we want it so?
A teenager from his fathers house and a toddler from his clothes;
The addict from addiction, The beaten from abuse;
A prisoner wants no prison, the felon wants to be loosed;
The slave wants no more bondage, the suicidal wants no pain;
They do all they can for liberty, and freedom to obtain.

You had little freedom in that hospital bed.
We brought you a card, you smiled and nodded your head.
Seeing the butterflies on the card, “Freedom” is what you said.
I was leaving for Kentucky on the Forth of July,
“Now remember,” you said “Don’t leave without telling me goodbye.”
I said I wouldn’t dream of doing so,
So before I left I stopped by and let you know.

Months came and months went
Weeks far from home were spent.
Your family and mine came to visit you.
It was filled with laughter and Taco Bell, and strange smells from the baby too.
“Freedom” I thought, that is what you crave,
But not to go wherever, but to see your family everyday.

You came back home and many weeks were spent.
You were here for Easter and for most of Lent.
I didn’t get to see you since you’d been at home,
And I didn’t get to talk to you before you left the world I roam.

You used to pray everyday for God to make things good,
To do away with the things you couldn’t and give you things you could.
But God made things perfect, but not the way we thought He would.
I know you would not have believed us had we told you He would do it this way,
But I know that now you are happy in that perfect place.
You now have no more pain, you are in His Kingdom.
He didn’t make things tolerable, but instead He gave you freedom.

But if you were here I’d say (or at least I’d try),
When I think freedom I think of you and not the butterfly.