The impact one life can have

In the Omaha World-Herald today, there was an article about a retired state worker who died.  Normally, that's not news.  However, here is what made that former state worker memorable...

"Sally Gordon, often called the matriarch of the State Capitol, died early Tuesday in Lincoln.

"She was 102. Her 103rd birthday would have been March 26.

"Gordon retired last year as a sergeant-at-arms for the Nebraska Legislature... Gordon worked for three governors and was a sergeant-at-arms for 27 years."

There are some obvious things - well, obvious to me at least - about this notice.

First, she was 102 years old!  That's not a small feat in and of itself.

Second, she was 102 years old, and she retired last year!  I'm going to be 61 years old this April, and, God willing, I hope to retire at least by the time I'm 66!  Now, I've got lots of plans for other things I want to do, but I don't envision that any of those things would be something so involved for me that I would be said to "retire" from that as well!

Third, she had worked at the Nebraska State Capitol for 27 years.  That means that Sally didn't begin working as a sergeant-at-arms until she already was 74 years old!  It reminded me that perhaps it's not such a far stretch after all to imagine that Abram responded positively to God's call to pack up and move to a whole new place when Abram was 80.  Sally might have directed him in the right way and kept everyone in order along the journey if she had been alive back then!

Now these three things - her age, how old she was when she retired, and the fact that she began a whole new career at the age of 74 that lasted almost three more decades in her life - are amazing to me... impressive... and a bit daunting.

However, there's one other thing about Sally Gordon.  A few years ago I was invited by one of our Nebraska state senators to lead the chamber in the invocation to begin one of their day's meetings.  I was honored... although I was not naive enough not to be unaware that rarely are invocations - whether in a sanctuary or in a government meeting place - things that are "impressive," that they usually don't make a big impact.  Still, I felt honored.  When the morning came, however, I also was a bit nervous.  It wasn't "stage fright;" I've been praying in public far too long for that.  However I was aware that I was standing in the place of power in the state of Nebraska... and, in that place, I was going to dare to address the Almighty on behalf of those assembled.  So, "nervous" might not be the most accurate word to describe what I was feeling, but I felt some inner tension.

I walked into the chamber a bit before the session was to begin with prayer, and this mature woman comes up to me, ask me who I am, and, when I told her, smiled broadly and welcomed me to the Legislature.  She told me that things were not going to start on time - I know, what a surprise, right? - and that I could wait over where some chairs were gathered for onlookers.  She walked me to the chairs, and then stayed and talked with me for a few minutes.  She floored me when she told me her age; I knew she was not young, but I would never have guessed that she was nearing 100 at that time!  She shared with me her love of the state house and her passion for her job there.  We talked about families, and how much they mean in our lives.  We chatted for only a few minutes before she excused herself and resumed her position at the door.  About an hour or so later, when the senators were ready to convene, she came over to get me and escorted me to the center aisle of the chamber, patted me on the arm, smiled, and nodded for me to proceed to the podium where the Speaker was about to introduce me.

What Sally did was noteworthy to me, because she made me feel welcomed.  She was hospitable.  She took an interest in who I was and how I was doing.  She left an impact.

She obviously left an impact on the lives of many, many people, and that impact was positive and helpful.

I think I could safely say that Sally Gordon would not have remembered me after a few days, probably after a few hours.  I could safely guess that Sally Gordon would not have thought she made any impact at all on me, or on anyone with whom she came into contact.  Yet her simple acts of kindness and welcome went a long way.

It makes me think today about my life.  What kind of impact do I have on people that I meet simply in passing?  How welcome and warm do people feel after I chat with them for just a few minutes?  Perhaps if we could be more aware of the impact one life can have... well, who knows how the world might be a different place?