Raspberries for Sister Hair
    Footnotes

    “Raspberries for Sister Hair,” New Era, Nov. 2006, 46

    Raspberries for Sister Hair

    My family has a big raspberry bush in our backyard that always produces more berries than we can eat, so every year my dad and I would take a bowl of raspberries to a widow in our ward, Sister Hair.

    I would always complain when my dad made me go with him because I was afraid Sister Hair would kiss me on the cheek, as she usually did. In fact, one time I took my nephew along so she would kiss him instead.

    This went on every year until Sister Hair went to live in a rest home. Some time later, the young women in my ward went to visit her for an activity. We introduced ourselves when we walked in, but she didn’t remember any of the young women except me. She repeated my last name and said, “That’s right, she used to bring me raspberries every year.” She told us how much she had enjoyed the company and the raspberries.

    As part of our visit, we sang some hymns for her. One hymn struck me in particular. As we sang, “Because I have been given much, I too must give,” (Hymns, no. 219), I felt ashamed that I hadn’t been more willing to share my friendship along with the raspberries. Sister Hair passed away shortly after our visit, but I will never forget the lesson I learned from her: that we should show gratitude for what we have by sharing it with others.

    Illustration by Dilleen Marsh