April 14, 2019
When I was a child, we spent Easter Sunday with my grandma in a nearby city. We attended her church, a large domed building with seating for the choir facing the congregation.
One choir member was an older blind woman with misshapen eyelids and sockets. But to me, she was the most beautiful woman there. She knew all the words of the hymns from memory. Every Easter Sunday, the choir sang the Hallelujah Chorus, and I watched her face glow with joy. You could tell that she knew the One about Whom she was singing.
I never had the privilege of meeting her, or even finding out her name, but she spoke to my heart about Easter.